Elphaba Lives!
by Captain Clueless the First
Summary: Nor's words "Elphaba Lives!" had more truth than anyone knew, for Elphaba Thropp never died. Instead, she went on a  posthumous trip to Arda.
1. Prologue

Concerning Ozian Religions - Before the Prologue

In Gregory Maguire's revisionist novel of Oz there are five religious figures. These include the pagan Fairy Queen Lurline, the Time Dragon, the Unnamed God, Lucifer and Kumbricia.

Lurline is an animistic deity, equivalent to one of our pagan ones. Fairy Queen of Oz.

The Unnamed God is similar to God in Protestantism.

The Dragon who dreamed the world and the Lord of Time.

Lucifer, basically the Devil to the Unnamed God.

Kumbricia - Sorceress, and the Lady of Change

In the prologue, I have endeavoured to make things simple. Unfortunately, in doing so, I have practically killed all Wicked cannon as far as the religions go. So... I apologize to any 'cannon-istas' here. All I can say in my defence is that I have to make it comprehensive, and that this is an Alternate Universe fanfic.

My considerably bendy mind has combined these five figures into a slightly dysfunctional family with difficulty and a great deal of research. So, here is how it works:

-Kumbricia is the wife of Naga Dari

-Lurline is the younger sister of Kumbricia

-The Time Dragon/Naga Dari is the husband of Kumbricia

-The Unnamed God/Ayah is the cousin of Naga Dari

-Lucifer is the younger brother of Ayah/The Unnamed God and younger cousin of Naga Dari.

Lurline is the Fairy Queen of Oz.

Kumbricia is the Lady and Archetype of Change. She existed before time began.

Naga Dari is the Dragon who dreamed the world, and the Lord of Time. He also existed before he began time.

Lurline is Kumbricia's younger sister and is the mother of the Ozma line.

Ayah is the creator of the Animals and the elder cousin of Naga Dari.

Naga Dari, the Dragon who dreamed and created the world of Oz. This means that he literally dreamed up Lurline, Lucifer and Ayah too. He is the husband of Kumbricia, another entity who existed before time began. The five deities must work in harmony and in the Order, for the greater good of Oz, like the mythological Greek Olympians had to.

Elphaba is spiritually the daughter of Kumbricia and the Dragon. That is, biologically, her father is the Wizard and her mother is Melena Thropp, the grand-daughter of the Eminent Thropp. Nominally, she is the child of Frexspar the Godly (Melena's husband) and Melena Thropp. But spiritually, she is the child of Kumbricia and the Dragon. I support this theory with one single point: Elphaba is once addressed as "Daughter of the Dragon". Because it is impossible for the Dragon to be either her biological or nominal father, he must therefore be her spiritual father. To me, this means that she is the daughter of these two deities incarnate.

_**Prologue**_

The eyes of the deities in the cave widened as one as they saw the scene unfold to the ominous sound of rushing Wind.

"Did that really just happen?" asked Lucifer, his eyes wide. Lurline nodded grimly.

"Elphaba Thropp, Wicked Witch of the West and Guardian of the Vinkus, has just died," she said flatly. The Dragon who had been brooding darkly in the corner of the grassy cave leapt to his paws.

"My daughter did what?" he roared. Ayah winced as a few volcanoes erupted in the Lesser Kells. The Dragon's wrath was always clearly visible when provoked.

"She died," repeated Lurline. The Dragon snarled and stiffened, radiating pure fury. His body tensed and relaxed, shuddering as he fought to regain control of himself.

He eventually let loose a long sigh and shifted shapes to his human form. He turned and embraced his wife.

"I am so sorry, my love," he whispered to her, his voice thick with grief. Kumbricia buried her face in his shoulder, stifling her sobs which she desperately wanted to release. After a few moments, she regained control of herself.

"Where will she go? Ayah?" she said, after extracting herself from her husband's arms. Gone was the weak, grieving parent: now she was icy-cold, hard, and deadly. The Dragon, by contrast, was as furious and perilous as fire.

"I cannot take her, due to her agnosticism. I am sorry, Kumbricia but the Order.." his voice trailed off. Kumbricia's eyes narrowed slightly before she nodded.

"Accepted. Lucifer?" she demanded, pivoting to face him. Hell was bad but not as bad as what other things could happen to souls.

"I'm afraid I cannot take her," Lucifer told her in a small voice. He was a coward at heart.

Kumbricia's eyes flashed perilously and narrowed to slits with barely contained rage.

"Why not?" she said in a dangerously smooth voice.

"She's not... evil enough," Lucifer whimpered at long last. That was to be the last straw for Kumbricia. She leapt over to stand directly in front of him, seized him by the shoulders and shook him until his teeth shattered.

"You cur! Tell me the truth, else I mutilate your essence with such asunder as to render you an eunuch!" she roared. The Dragon cocked his head to the side, listening to the enormous avalanche that had just been released in the mountainous border of the Vinkus and Gillikin not without some satisfaction. Lucifer flinched.

"I'm..." Lucifer began. Kumbricia stopped shaking him long enough for him to answer.

"I'm afraid she will depose me. And also, she doesn't have enough malice in her to really warrant hell," Lucifer whispered. Kumbricia snarled, but turned to Lurline, leaving Lucifer trembling.

"Sister?" Kumbricia asked, pain making her voice catch.

"I cannot do as you would have me do, sister. But there is something..." Lurline said clearly. Kumbricia lost all semblance of patience and entered her sister's mind.

"Yes," she hissed, satisfied at last. "That could work," she murmured.

"What could work?" demanded the Dragon. Kumbricia turned to her husband.

"A High Council of Inkworlds," she intoned.

"Lurline... you're a genius," said Ayah. Lurline shrugged.

"Does that satisfy, sister?" she asked Kumbricia.

"For the moment."

"Three, two, one... HALT!" shouted Lurline to the Dragon. The Dragon nodded, then planted his feet firmly into the Earth as he threw the invisible force-field of inertia over Oz which would be used to stop time. It was necessary so that they could hold the Council without having to worry about the aftermath of Elphaba's death. Lucifer, Lurline and Ayah took up positions at each other point of the compass. The Dragon controlled Gillikin's time, Lucifer the Quadling Country, Lurline the Free State of Munchkinland and Ayah controlled the Vinkus, and the Emerald City.

"Wind, heed my summons, come at my call!" Kumbricia roared in the tongue of the Grimmerie and gods. There was a gale of noise and rushing of wind, and then the Wind was there.

"You called me, Lady of Change?" the Wind whispered in the tongue that only the the deities understood. Kumbricia inclined her head.

"Aye. I would beg a boon of ye, Wind, Messenger of the Inkworlds and Herald of Death," she spoke, mustering all the courtesy she could.

"Speak then, for your wish is my command," the Wind replied.

"Carry this message to Eru of Arda and to Aslan of Narnia: Kumbricia summons ye to the High Council of the Inkworlds, to come as soon as ye may."

"With a good will, my lady," the Wind seemed to breathe, before it sped away. Kumbricia closed her eyes, and desperately tried to block out the despairing cries of her daughter's soul. Please hurry, she thought. Aslan, Eru, if I have ever wronged you, please do not hold it against my daughter. Please, come.

The Wind laughed with childlike joy, as she darted into the first Tunnel of the Inkworlds. She rushed and stormed down the Tunnel to Narnia, rejoicing in her speed without starting to wonder about the message her mistress gave her to deliver. Kumbricia was unknowable to all save her husband, and her husband was as tight-lipped as she. The golden light at the Tunnel began to pulse and intensify in brightness, as she raced into the portal. She turned her exceptionally keen-sighted eyes on the landscape, seeking out one thing. She spotted her quarry, and flew straight towards it.

An expression of mild surprise came over Aslan's face, before he composed himself.

"My lady Wind. To what do I owe the honour?" he spoke formally.

"My lady Kumbricia, has charged me to deliver the following message to you: Kumbricia summons you to the High Council of Inkworlds."

"Did she say what it was about?" asked Aslan.

"Nay, but she bade you come as soon as you may."

"Very well, I shall come. You may tell your mistress that Aslan will come," the lion answered.

The Wind nodded, and then dashed away.

She raced into the Tunnel that led to Arda, and made her rapid way to the white light that throbbed at the end. She leapt into it and stopped to spy her quarry. She pinpointed its location, and headed directly towards it.

"Wind, my lady, what brings you here?" Eru asked warmly. If the Wind could have blushed, she would have.

"My mistress, the Lady Kumbricia, bade me deliver you this message: Kumbricia summons you to the High Council of Inkworlds, and begs you come as soon as you may," she said, in a businesslike fashion.

"Does she indeed? Kumbricia begging... well, I never. Then, of course, you may tell her I shall come with all speed."

The Wind nodded curtly, and then took off once again, rocketing away.

"Well? Will they answer the call?" questioned Kumbricia anxiously.

"Calm yourself, my lady. They will answer," the Wind soothed.

"All right. My Lady Wind, you have my thanks. I will not keep you any longer. You may resume your usual duties."

"My lady."

Kumbricia sighed and rubbed her brow with her hand. She was feeling utterly exhausted, and there was sure to be more to be done.

"That sigh sounds like it has an entire cosmos weighing it down, my friend," came a gentle voice. Her eyes widened.

"Aslan!" she shouted, whirling.

"Hello Kumbricia. It's good to see you," he answered warmly. She cracked a tiny grin.

"I take it it is rather a sad subject which we have been summoned for?" he said softly. Kumbricia nodded.

"I see Eru has arrived," Aslan added. She raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"It would be like him to show up late," she muttered. Aslan hid a slight smirk.

"Kumbricia! It's good to see you, my friend," greeted Eru, pulling her into a quick hug. Kumbricia thumped hard in the back, and he quickly released her. She led them two to a grassy knoll, where they sat.

"Tell me, Kumbricia, why have you summoned us?" asked Aslan.

"It's a long story. Suffice to say that my daughter is a lost soul; she's agnostic but Lucifer's afraid she'll take over. She's had a hard life and Naga and I refuse to let her wander for eternity. So, we called to see if either of your worlds could take her," she said curtly.

"I cannot take her. Narnia is in disarray, and the White Witch would be quick to target her," said Aslan.

"Eru?"

"I will," he said simply. Kumbricia nodded. She took a deep breath, and then roared the cry again.

"Wind, heed my summons, come at my call!*" The Wind rushed around her.

"What is your wish, Lady?" she sighed.

"Take Elphaba to Arda, as Eru directs you," Kumbricia said.

The Wind sighed assent, and the cries of Elphaba's despairing soul quickly faded away. Eru nodded farewell, and disappeared. Kumbricia turned to Aslan.

"Well, time to get back to work, old friend," she smiled wryly. The lion nodded, and raised his tail in farewell as he stalked off.

Kumbricia shuddered, wiping a tear from her eye, reflecting for a moment. Oz would be strange without her daughter.

"Clear!" she yelled. The deities in the star-formation breathed a sigh of relief.

"Is she all right?" the Dragon asked Kumbricia.

"She's fine. Just fine."

Eru nodded to the Wind gently as she set Elphaba's body down.

"Thank you, milady. May you have fair passage back through the Tunnels," Eru said warmly.

"My lord," the Wind murmured, before speeding off. Eru smirked at her fluster but turned his mind back to work. He closed his eyes and entered Elphaba's mind, sifting through her every memory. He whistled, impressed.

"Ûdun's teeth! Your mother wasn't kidding when she said you'd been through it all, was she? Hmm. I was originally just going to make you a mortal. I wonder..." he mused, before he came to a decision.

"Irmo!" he shouted. A shimmering haze appeared some metres away, and it flickered for a few moments before solidifying.

"You summoned me, my lord?" he asked, his voice brimming with curiosity.

"Aye, I have a task for you. I want you to change this mortal into an Elf," answered Eru, his voice firm.

"My lord?" Irmo asked incredulously.

"Do you trust me, Irmo Lórien?"

"Of course, sire!" came the steadfast reply.

"Good. Now, do as I say, please," retorted Eru.

"Sire. But, it may take a few hours. It is a delicate procedure."

"Of course." Eru sat down cross-legged and watched the procedure with great interest.

Irmo flipped Elphaba over onto her front, and closed his eyes, as if mustering strength. A force seemed to latch onto Elphaba's scalp in a vicelike grip, and lifted the scalp of the head, so that the brain was clearly visible. Irmo delved into the tendrils of Elphaba's mind and began to dissect it. He started to put the different parts in different places, analysing the psyche's connection to the emotional part of her brain in particular with painstaking cautiousness. He continued to work in this fashion, producing one Elfin Elphaba and a mystified Eru. Eru looked at Elphaba, scrutinising her. Green skin, pointed ears, mid-back length black hair... check, check, and check.

"Well tithen pen; all I can say is, have a nice life. Might do you good," he murmured. Eru picked Elphaba up and handed her into the arms of one very surprised Vala.

"My lord?" asked Irmo quizzically.

"Take her to the borders of Imladris, Irmo."

"With pleasure, sire."

The rest of the story is from Elphaba's perspective, first person, past tense.


	2. Different World, Different DNA

_**Both categories: bookverse. Only bit of Wicked musical-verse is when I say Elphaba can enchant any broom to fly. And also, I am changing it slightly. I'm making it so that the Grimmerie came with her. So, she still has her cloak, her dress that she's wearing and the Grimmerie.**_

_**Italics = Elphaba's thoughts**_

_**Summary: Nor's words "Elphaba Lives!" had more truth than anyone knew; for the Wicked Witch of the West never died. Instead, she went for a trip to Middle-Earth. **_

I groaned as I woke up. I rubbed my eyes wearily as I sat up, brain too foggy to start taking in the surroundings. I rubbed my palms against my forehead, before lying back down and closing my eyes. Clarity and awareness came slowly, bit by bit. The memories came back too; Dorothy begging for forgiveness, Liir in total incomprehension, the Cowardly Lion flapping uselessly around... and then pain. Nothing but pain, as I felt the one thing I feared caress me sweetly, then suddenly bite and tear through me, leaving me in agony. I nodded to myself, trying to take in my situation.

_Alright. I have presumably died, so I am either in that heaven Father talked about, or an alternate world. Both highly improbable, but I doubt the former more. Besides which, every event in my life has been improbable. Even my birth. Now, next problem. I have no idea where I am. I am unlikely to be believed about my story, but no big change there. I have no idea where to go, and I have no money. Damn, I don't even have my wretched broom!_

I slowly opened my eyes, bit by bit. I frowned. I was in a clearing in a forest with lovely soft grass that was the colour of my skin. The trees that surrounded the clearing were stooping great oaks. I smiled; it was a luxury just to be able to lie here and relax, to be free of the constant stress that being an enemy of the government brings. I sat up, trying to take in as much as I could.

I was in a clearing, and it was a bit before noon. I nodded and closed my eyes, a sudden cold deadly calm feeling washing over me; I recognized this as my natural defence mechanism.

"It's rude to spy on a woman, you know," I said, my tone chatty and eyes still closed.

I didn't hear any footsteps, but I soon sensed presences around me. I opened my right eye, then my left, to see ten tall graceful beings in a semicircle around me. They had dark hair and pointed ears, with a timeless aura about them. They were also well-armed with swords at their hips and bows slung over their shoulders.

"May I inquire why you were spying on me?" I asked, one eyebrow raised.

"State your business here, stranger!" one of them asked harshly, his hand resting threateningly on his sword. My eyebrow rose even further.

"Such courtesy! I am honoured. I have no business here, for I am lost. May I ask why you appear to view me as a threat?" The being blushed slightly, much to my satisfaction.

"Ah, I take it is because of my skin colour?" I asked, slightly amused by the similarities to this world and Oz. The graceful beings nodded.

"I'll take that as a yes then. Now, are you going to bind my hands and drag me off, or not?" I said, thoroughly amused in a cynical way. One of the graceful beings cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"My lady," I narrowed my eyes fractionally at this, "forgive us any offence our actions and words may have occurred. But we have never seen an elf with green skin and black hair before, and are aggressive to what we do not know in these dark times." My eyes narrowed to slits, before I burst out laughing.

"I can assure you, I am no Elf. Last I checked, elves had green skin, to be sure, but were tiny evil pests that drove farmers insane." The being that had apologised shook his head firmly.

"My lady, you are an Elf. Your ears are proof of it. Also, Elves do not usually have green skin, and are usually fairly tall by the standards of Men. We are Elves of Imladris or Rivendell, as it is known in the common tongue. My name is Gellfuin." I frowned at him.

"Firstly, call me 'my lady' again, and I will turn you into a newt. My name is Elphaba; if you are uncomfortable with that, you may call me Miss Elphaba. Secondly, elves are different where I come from. Thirdly, what in the name of the Oziad, is Imladris? " I said, getting rather frustrated with my ignorance. I was used to knowing **more**, not **less**. I shook my head in exasperation, and placed my hands on either side of my scalp, just touching my ears... which came to a point. My eyes widened.

_Not only have I gone to a different world, but I have changed species as well. _

"Rivendell or Imladris is the elven realm of Lord Elrond Half-Elven," Gellfuin informed me, seeming to act as spokes-Elf for the group.

"And who, pray tell, is Lord Elrond Half-Elven?" I said, my tone acidic.

"He is the Lord and ruler of Imladris. Technically, you are trespassing, hence our need to inquire as to your business."

I nodded. I brooded on these thoughts for a while,before gesturing for them to sit down.

"There are a few things you should probably know. I'll go in order of most startling. Firstly, I'm not from this world," I smiled in amusement at the many gasps that greeted this announcement.

"Secondly, where I come from, I am an outcast because I stood up for what I believed and against a cruel dictator. If your ruler is unjust, then you probably do not want to take me there, because if he is, I **will** topple him. Thirdly, where I come from, I am considered as the Wicked Witch of the West for standing up against aforementioned dictator and for said beliefs. So, I am not a weak damsel in distress. If I exasperate you too much, just give me a broom and I'll be fine." I looked around at the elves who were slack-jawed with incomprehension. I sighed.

"How much of that did you actually get?" I asked.

"I got lost around 'outcast'," said Gellfuin.

"Alright. I am an outcast not just because of my skin colour but because I stood up against governmental discrimination of a certain social minority. I hope that sort of thing is not practised on Imladris?" I asked. _I may be in a different world, but I can still do stuff._

"Not by the ruler, no. Some people are prejudiced, but Lord Elrond would not do such a thing unless he knew that creature to be in the service of Sauron." I frowned. I was missing something.

"Hmmm. Can't say I know him. You'll have to tell me about him," here she held up a halting hand, "**after** I finish," She paused briefly.

"Where I come from, I was known as the Wicked Witch of the West. I was considered to be such because I did in fact have some paranormal powers. I was an amateur sorceress, but I had certain weird gifts. I was a member of a rebellion cell, when I was twenty-three. I was working in it, but my... friend, Fiyero was killed by the Gale Forces. Somehow, they had found out about our affair, and killed him, because they suspected he would be involved with the cell. After I discovered his body, I fled to a mauntery, for sanctuary and healing. I journeyed to his homeland, the Thousand Grasslands, and that's when the truly supernatural things began. That's all I can really tell you. Also, you should know that I am not a dithering damsel in distress, but am one of the weirdest people you have ever met. " I finished the explanation there, pleased to find comprehension on most of the faces there.

"Now tell me, who's this Sauron fellow?" I asked curiously.

"Sauron the Deceiver is basically the enemy of all the free peoples of Middle-Earth," Gellfuin said succinctly. I nodded, and looked up to the sky. It was around mid-noon.

"How far away is Imladris?" I asked.

"Imladris is about half a day's ride off. Unfortunately, we do not have a spare horse..." Gellfuin said, his voice trailing off.

"That's fine; I'll walk."

I got up and stretched, stamping my feet and shaking my arms, which had fallen asleep. One of the elves emitted a piercing whistle. Soft hoofbeats thudded gently for a few moments, before ten gorgeous horses trotted into the clearing. There were three greys, four bays, one black and two chestnuts. The elves mounted up, and looked at me.

"Do you have any belongings, Miss Elphaba?" one of the elves asked.

"No, just this," I said, gesturing to my dress and cloak.

"Are you sure? You had this with you," another elf said, holding up an incredibly familiar book. I held out a hand for it. The elf handed it over, and I turned it over. As I recognised it, my eyes widened and my jaw dropped for the first time in my entire existence. It was the Grimmerie! I clutched it to my chest with both arms, and started jumping around in circles. After several rounds, I sat down, breathing hard. I grinned at the startled elves.

"Don't mind me, I'm just happy to see this again. If it had fallen into the wrong hands it could have been a powerful weapon. Shall we go now?" I asked, standing up again, and walking over.

"If you'll follow us, Miss Elphaba."

* * *

**_So... do you like the remastered version? Do you hate it? Have you not read it? Please, drop a review!_**


	3. Meet the Master of the House

_**I've thought out the time and setting and I wanted to put it some light (two or three) years before Gilraen (Aragorn/Estel's mum) comes to Imladris. **_

_***1 A 'ride' for those of you that don't horse-ride, is a group of riders in an organized formation. Any formation.**_

_***2 I count the Ents as one of the Free peoples. I also count the hobbits. **_

_***3 Dawnfire, this is for you, 'cause you haven't read the book. See, there's this Elephant (NB: as in Elephant, like the ones with a spirit and elephant the non-sentient one. Yes, the capital letter does in fact make a difference!) called Princess Nastoya, who gives Elphaba guidance. She addresses Elphaba as "Daughter of the Dragon". Yes, even though her father is the Wizard. Okay, rant time over. Clarification time!**_

_**Let me clarify the romance factor in this story right now, in case some of you think this will be a romance; at the moment there is a distinct lack thereof. This will not be a Fiyerbamance (Fiyero Elphaba Romance). Fiyerba fans; I love this pairing too, but Fiyero dies in the book (this fic is bookverse.) I will not have an elf fall for Elphaba in this story either. BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A ROMANCE. It is a Hurt/Comfort/Firendship/Healing story.**_

_**Italics = Elphaba's thoughts**_

_**Disclaimer:Don't own, never will, never claimed, don't sue.**_

* * *

The Elves cued their horses and organized themselves into a ride*. They aimed their horses for a wide path between two great oaks. I fell into place, walking alongside the second row of three. The elves looked at me as if I were an alien, which I supposed I was. I glanced at them quizzically.

Asking your questions may be a good idea," I informed them.

"Milady," one of the Elves began but corrected himself quickly seeing my warning stare. "Lady Elphaba, are you truly from a different world?"

"Lady? Ugh, fine, as long as you don't say 'milady' Yes, I am. It's very different where I come from."

"How is this possible? You coming here, I mean," asked the Elf.

"I have heard of people coming to different worlds, but I have never thought that that is what would happen to me when I died." I felt an amused grin break out across my face. I had a feeling that elves were not shocked very often; but I had shocked these ones twice within the space of less than half an hour.

"You... died?" one of the elves asked.

"Unless you can find another verb that would surmise the consequences of melting," I said.

"What was your world like?" another Elf.

"Aaaah, Oz. Oz was wonderful and terrible simultaneously. It all depended on who you were. If you were a farmer then it was horrible. If you were upper-class, it was great fun. If you were an outcast, it was harsh. We have great machines that roar us across enormous distances. We have many different faiths. There is Unionism, Lurlinism, the pleasure faith, and there is agnosticism. We have a great deal of diversity in Oz; there are sentient Animals, that are animals blessed with spirits. There are Quadlings, Munchkins, Winkies and elves. There are enchanted tiktok creatures that are almost semi-sentient. Oz was... it's hard to fully describe." The Elves' eyes were wide and their expressions intrigued. But one Elf in particular was staring with a dreamy look on his face. I raised an eyebrow, and turned to the Elf next to him.

"What's up with him?" I asked the Elf, jerking a thumb to his daydreaming companion. He glanced at him and started chuckling.

"His hobby is to learn everything he can about other cultures and races. Your Oz sounds like paradise to him." I smiled wistfully.

"I used to love learning too. At university, I was one of the most keen students there."

"What are your names?" I asked, quickly changing the subject before i could start reminiscing. The Elves seemed to sense my change in mood, but thankfully did not comment and humoured me.

"I am Angolant," said one of them. I looked at him. He was tall as were the others, with brown hair and blue eyes.

"I am Corephedil," stated the Elf next to him. He had brown hair and blue eyes. I groaned, anticipating many embarrassing incidents where I got the names mixed up.

"Please don't be offended when I get your names all mixed up," I said. They smiled understandingly.

"I suspect that the Elves of Middle-Earth are not quite as diverse as the population of Oz," said the one beside Corephedil. "I am Mithlach." I looked at him. Dark blond hair, instead of usual light or dark brown, blue eyes.

"I am Istion," said the Elf beside Mithlach. Ah, it was the one who loved to learn.

"I am Sítheron."

"I am Tinuast."

"I am Saeros."

"I am Ringris."

I nodded. They were all named in some foreign language.

"I've told you of Oz. Will you not tell me more of this world?" I asked, the tone in my voice almost pleading. Almost.

The Elf, Istion, nodded sympathetically. He seemed to understand my use of knowledge as a pillar; for me, knowledge was not power, but stability, certainty.

"There are five Free Peoples, as we call them. They are the Men, the Dwarves, the Elves, the halflings and the Ents*," here he held up a hand to forestall the questions. "The halflings are a strange folk. They have hairy feet and are quite short. They are usually as tall as a seven-year old human, at their full height. They are peaceful. They are farmers and innkeepers, traders, gardeners."

"Quite like Munchkins," I muttered. And it was true. Both were peaceful races, whose province was farming and cultivation.

"The Ents are the ancients of the land, the firstborn of all who live. Yet they are not called Firstborn, for that refers to the firstborn Children of Eru. They are effectively, sentient trees." This statement had me gaping. Sentient trees? Such a thing was surely unheard of. "They are the... caretakers, of the forests, you could say." Forests, plural?

"Do they dwell in all forests?" I asked, my eyes wide.

"No, they may have once but they do not now. Now, they reside in Fangorn, the last of the ancient strongholds."

"Then there are the dwarves. They are short stout and bearded, with great skill in stone. They are the stone lovers. They love the cavern and the mine above the wood and the glade; the veins of ore better than the blossoms and the grass." I nodded. These dwarves were unlike the ones of Oz, as were these Elves.

"I do not know how to describe the rest of _Arda _to you however, so I shall leave that task to someone better suited to it than I." I rubbed my forehead tiredly.

"_Arda_?" I queried wearily.

"Ah, Elvish for Middle-Earth."

"Elvish being the language of the elves," I said, my tone conveying that it was half question, half statement.

"Well... Elvish is the name given to both languages of the Elves. It's like... two languages under one name. Quenya and Sindarin are the two ... sub-languages of the elves."

"I'll have to learn Elvish when I arrive at Imladris, will I not?" I asked.

"Probably. A lot of Elves do not speak the Common Tongue fluently."

"I assume that the Common Tongue is the one that we converse in now." I said. It was a statement, not a question.

The afternoon continued in much the same fashion. I kept walking, my legs protesting after the first hour and a half missing my broom, but I kept silent about that fact. Instead, I continued pumping Istion for information, already wanting to know as much as I could. I smiled; old habits died hard, and seeking knowledge had grown from a trait to a habit to a deeply ingrained instinct. The other Elves kept silent; they probably had some reservations about me. After all, I was an Elf with green skin who had fallen out of thin air and claimed to be an formerly mortal Wicked Witch from an alternate world. I probably would be startled too in their position. I frowned.

_What will the reactions of the lords of Imladris be? _I thought, a bit anxiously. This would be fine if it were Oz. In Oz, after I passed my fortieth year, there was no-one I did not know about, no-one I could not predict with accuracy, and thus, no situation that could throw me off balance. But when other worlds interfered, I was as clueless as everyone else; as I had learned from with Dorothy. I set my jaw firmly; Madame Morrible had called me a lone wolf, told me I had a will of iron. What she had never said was that I had resilience of the likes were rarely seen. I smiled grimly to myself. I would survive here as I had in Oz; I would be damned if I let being in a totally different world kill me. I kept walking, musing over the day's events. It had been a strange day, without a doubt.

* * *

"Lady Elphaba!" 80 minutes later, I was jolted out of my trance by a warning call that was sadly slightly belated. I was too late to notice the protruding taproot, and tripped, landing face-first in the dirt. I grimaced and got to my feet, brushing off my dress and cloak. I shook myself and kept walking.

"Are we nearly there yet?" I asked the elves.

"We will be there in maybe an hour if we continue at this pace. Do you need a rest?" Mithlach said.

"If we could stop for a rest, I'd appreciate it."

"Gellfuin," Mithlach called. Gellfuin turned around in his saddle from his position at the front of the ride.

"Can we take a break? I'm not exactly used to walking for longer than an hour at one time," I called. Gellfuin nodded.

"We will stop just short of the city," he responded.

"How far away is that?" I queried.

"Five minutes or so," said Mithlach.

I nodded. Five minutes. I could survive that. I kept walking.

Five minutes later, I sat down and stretched my legs out happily. The Elves dismounted fluidly and let their horses start cropping the grass.

"How long can we rest?" I asked while stretching my calves.

"How long do you need?" Gellfuin replied.

"About ten minutes," I answered. I lay down and closed my eyes, musing over my emotions. Excited, intrigued, curious. No sadness, no regrets, and no grief. I knew why though; it was because I had left, bitter and tired, with no love, joy, hope, faith... no grace left in that world. Just sorrow, anger, rage and cynicism, and the bitter taste of failure. Yes, failure. Bitter failure; to obtain forgiveness, to save Sarima and her sisters, to avenge Fiyero... so many things. I frowned at myself. Now was no time for self-loathing. I had to be strong; else I would not survive. I lay there a while more, letting my mind just wander freely. If my mind had no occupation, then it would be best to let it roam as it would. Eventually, after I felt strengthened enough to keep walking, I sat up. The elves were watching me patiently. I got to my feet and stretched the kinks out of my body.

"Shall we go on now?" I asked them. They nodded and rose, moving over and petting their horses before remounting. I fell back into my place in the middle of the ride. I stayed silent this time, feeling too tired to talk. I had no subjects that came to mind to discuss either. The Elves sensed I did not wish to talk, and thankfully did not try to engage me in conversation. When we had been walking for roughly half an hour, the city came into view. I gazed at it in wonder. It was beautiful, different to any city I had ever seen; it was as if Nature had decided to make its own city. It was built of stone, wood and marble-like materials. It was wonderful; its architecture mirroring the soaring, curving, flowing grace of the woods and the water around it. The awe in me turned to fear: water. There was so much water, so many hazardous places. I bit my lip. I had gone through the agony of melting once; I did not wish to again.

"Lady Elphaba? Is something wrong?" Saeros asked me.

"No, nothing much," I said, forcing a small weak grin on my face. Saeros raised an eyebrow, but did not press me further.

We walked along the path that lead into the city.

The Elves who were walking about the city looked up briefly, and went back to their business before their gazes snapped straight back to... me. I snorted. Wherever I went, I had caught peoples' eyes. I'd come to expect it. Nice to know somethings never changed, across worlds. I grinned.

"So where do I have to go for interrogation?" I asked them a little later.

"Ah, I think I should take you there. It's rather easy to get lost," said Gellfuin. I nodded.

"Right-o. Lead on then," I responded. I straightened up, and held myself a bit higher and prouder. I was Elphaba Thropp, the Wicked Witch of the West, and the daughter of the dragon*. I would not slouch and cower as if I were ashamed of my existence. I followed Gellfuin further into the city, accumulating curious and in some cases, shocked looks, as I went.

I strode behind Gellfuin, unperturbed by the expressions on bystanders' faces. He led me further into the city, eventually into a courtyard that was ringed in on the sides by a medium-sized building. This appeared to be a central complex, presumably for the ruler and his household. I walked along, continuing my collection of elven curiosity and shock as I went. I rolled my eyes. Even in Oz I had not been regarded as such a peculiarity.

_But in Oz there were green elves, pink Quadlings, brown Winkies and dark dwarves and white Glikkuns, Gillikinese and Munchkinlanders, not to mention Animals. Oz was rather more colourful,_ I remembered. I grinned. _Maybe this place could do with some diversity. _

I followed Gellfuin through the corridors and hallways for a few minutes before he came to the one he wanted. He knocked gently on the door.

"Come in," came the reply. Gellfuin graciously held the door open for me, and I slipped in, standing in front of the desk. I looked around curiously. The room was just large enough to hold several people comfortably. There were several bookshelves along one wall, and there were several comfortable chairs arranged around a large messy desk that was cluttered with papers. Seated behind the desk was the Elf who was without question Lord Elrond. He radiated power, elegance, authority and wisdom; but also something like comfort, shelter and safety. His face was ageless, kind and wise, but also stern and just. It was the face of someone who had struggled, survived and come through without losing their virtue. He gazed at me in surprise. I hid a sardonic grin. _It_ _really wouldn't do to piss off the only one who can help me. _Proud I was, but I never turned down help I needed. I had learned the wisdom of that long ago. Lord Elrond shot Gellfuin an inquiring glance.

"My Lord, this is Lady Elphaba. She was found trespassing in the woods of Imladris a little way beyond the Bruinen. We were rather suspicious of her due to her..." Evidently Gellfuin was afraid of offending me.

"My greenery? It's fine, Gellfuin, I've lived with it all my lifetime. You do not need to fear offending me," I said. Gellfuin coughed awkwardly. "Erm yes, well, we were a bit suspicious due to her... unusual appearance. She informed us she was a witch from a different world called Oz. We told her we would need to take her here for questioning, to which she readily agreed. She has stated that she has no knowledge of Sauron, or Middle Earth. I think that I should pass this over to Lady Elphaba, because this is where my knowledge ends." I couldn't help the small grin on my face at the Lord's expression. His eyebrows were practically in his hairline, and his grey eyes were wide.

"Lady?" he asked me.

"Fine, I'll start at the beginning. My name is Elphaba Thropp, the Wicked Witch of the West. I was labelled wicked for standing up for what I believed in, and against governmental discrimination of a social minority. I was killed by a bucket of water," I said.

"By a _bucket of water_?" they asked me incredulously. I smiled bitterly.

"I'm allergic to it," I explained. They nodded, understanding. Lord Elrond closed his eyes, as if trying to sort things out in his head. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and his misty gaze was compassionate. I wondered what had happened for this change to occur.

"You have borne many scars, _tithen pen._ Have they ever healed?" I felt a lump in my throat, as I instinctively realized the kind of scars he was referring to; not the physical, for they healed quickly, but the emotional and spiritual; the ones that could take years, decades to heal. I shook my head.

"No time. Always had to be the strong one, the caretaker, the leader. Never had the time to relax, let alone heal." His misty gaze gentled further.

"Would you like to heal here in Imladris then, _tithen pen_?"

"On what conditions?" I asked warily. His eyes widened slightly.

"Conditions? No, no conditions! You will be a guest in my house. Though," here he broke off, looking slightly apologetic, "you may have to tolerate my chief councillor Erestor. He's a teacher and loves to learn; so he will probably question you down to the last detail on your world." I grinned.

"That will be no trouble, provided he can stand me," I laughed. He grinned also.

"Never fear. Erestor is one of the most pro-diversity elves I know!" he reassured. I nodded.

"Yes, is it just me or is there a little less diversity here than Oz?" I said.

"No, it's not you," said Gellfuin. Lord Elrond looked at him. He elaborated,

"Her world is fascinating, Lord Elrond. There are so many different peoples, races, faiths, cultures... it's amazing." Elrond nodded.

"In which case, Erestor will have a field day... or week rather," he said. I smiled, but then was taken aback by the yawn that escaped me. Elrond looked slightly guilty.

"Forgive me for keeping you so long, Lady Elphaba. You should go and have some rest; you've had a long day." I nodded.

"Nethril!" he called. A few moments later, a graceful elleth appeared in the doorway.

"Lord Elrond?" she asked.

"Could you please take Lady Elphaba to a suite in the guest quarters?" asked Lord Elrond. She inclined her head and looked at me.

"My lady?" she asked, beckoning me. I rose and walked over.

"Please, call me Elphaba, Fabala, Elphie, Fae... anything except 'my lady'," I said, laughing. She grinned.

"Can I call you Elphie?" she asked. I nodded. We walked out the door, and she led me through a maze of corridors.

"How do you find your way around here?" I asked her softly.

"Practise makes perfect, Elphie. And I've been practising this for a few years," she said.

"Can I call you Nethri? It seems easier." Her grin widened.

Eventually the winding corridors came to an end. I saw the simple door and frowned. Nethri opened the door and pulled me in. I gasped, then frowned. There was a lot of natural light, with windows to the north and east, but the room was all white. _I will __**definitely**__ need to re-do this colour scheme. Heck, it's not a colour-scheme. it's a white-scheme._ "Nethri? Would I be allowed to redecorate this room? It's a little... plain for my tastes," I said. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Does the room meet with your approval otherwise?" she asked.

"Approval? Other than the colour scheme, I love it!" I said, dropping Grimmerie and cloak, hurling myself onto the bed. She grinned.

"In that case Elphie, I shall leave you to your rest. Good evening!"

"See you round, Nethri!" I yelled after her as she walked off. I sighed and just crawled under the covers and fell asleep. _What a day._

* * *

**_A/N_**

**So guys, did you like the chapter? I've tried to do it well. Critique, justified and explained flames, reviews, constructive criticism? All fuel for the plot bunny. It's getting hungry again...**

**Love you guys, Happy Father's Day for today or yesterday, depending on where you are.**

**WingCommanderVinyaya**


	4. Rants and Redecorating

_AN_

**_Disclaimer: This is the boring part. Not mine, never owned, never claimed, don't sue, just going to get this over with. Nor do I own The Animal Song by Savage Garden._**

**_The first part of this chapter will be from Elrond's POV; I have a feeling some of you didn't exactly get why he proposed Elphaba stay in Imladris, so this chapter goes through Elrond's thoughts just after their encounter._**

**_Also, I am so sorry. For those of you who do not know the most common words in Elvish, I have committed a grave sin. I have forgotten to put translations to the words in the previous chapter. _**

**_Tithen pen = Little one_**

**_Nana=mother_**

**_Elleth = female Elf_**

**_Ellon = male Elf_**

**_Ellyth = female Elves_**

**_Ellyn = male Elves_**

**_Italics = Person's thoughts_**

**_

* * *

_**

"Elphie, rise and shine!" a voice said cheerfully. I cracked open an eyelid to see Nethri, bustling around the room, throwing open the windows. It was some early time in the morning, perhaps seven. I opened both my eyes fully, and sat up before pushing off the covers and getting up. Nethri smiled and hugged me. I hugged her back. She let go, and looked at me.

"You'll have to get some new clothes. You can't have just one dress!" I nodded, guessing that she would brook no argument on the subject.

"But I get to help design them," I said firmly. She nodded, before grabbing my hand and leading me out of the room.

"Come on! It's time for breakfast, and I'm starving!" she said. I grinned, nodding agreement. We walked very fast, which was probably why I suddenly tripped over the hem of my dress. I got up, and caught up to Nethri, who had turned around and started jogging back to me. We progressed to the dining hall, encountering shocked or horrified glances and whisperings. I looked at Nethri.

"Does my greenness bother you?" I asked her.

"No, should it?" she replied.

"I don't know, but I'm glad it doesn't. At least one person who treats me as a fellow human... or Elf, whatever," I said quietly.

"Human?" she queried.

"Ah, long story. I'll tell you during breakfast, but please don't tell everyone. I'd like to let the others," I jerked my head to the other Elves in the room, "do some theorising first. Sometimes it is quite entertaining, listening to what people come up with." She nodded, and lead me to the breakfast table, near where Lord Elrond and two other Elves were seated.

"Lord Elrond," we greeted, nodding our heads. His gaze snapped to us, as did those of the two lords beside him. I scrutinised them, taking in every detail. One was fair, with golden hair and bright sapphire eyes. Wise and experienced in pain, but joyful and merry, past events notwithstanding. The other was pale with darkest brown hair and brown eyes. Wise, learned and compassionate, but also stern and proud. They were great Elves, ones whom I would happily respect. _Both quite handsome too_, I noted absentmindedly.

"Lady Elphaba, meet Lord Erestor and Lord Glorfindel, my most trusted friends and advisors," introduced Elrond. The two politely stood and stepped forward. I stuck out my hand for the to shake which they did solemnly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Elphaba," said Erestor.

I dipped my head. "The pleasure's all mine, my lords. And please, call me Elphaba, Elphie, Fabala, Fae, anything, but do not call me Lady or 'milady'," I said. They grinned.

"Certainly, Elphaba, but then you must do the same for us," replied Glorfindel.

"All right Glorfindel," I laughed, before sitting down to eat. I grinned, then started eating hungrily. I was starving, and I hadn't seen food like this for ages! After I finished squashing my appetite, I was aware of the look of awe on Glorfindel's face. I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You have the appetite of a halfling, Elphaba," he answered in amazement.

"A halfling?" I asked.

"They eat around six large meals a day," said Nethri, glaring at Glorfindel a little. I laughed.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I chuckled.

"Mmm-hmmm. You owe me a story, by the way," she said.

"Ah, yes, so I do. Come on then. I'll tell you outside. This place have any peaceful gardens without water?" I asked. Nethri nodded, and led me through a few corridors. I did not observe at the time, three certain Elf-lords rise and follow us. Nethri led me onto a path that ended in a peaceful garden with benches scattered around. I took a deep breath and then told Nethri all the key background of Oz, from the Wizard to Lurlinism to marriage customs.

Then I breathed again. She was still listening attentively, her face not disgusted or confused, but gentle and understanding. My heart started swelling with gratitude. I told her the entire tale of my story then; from my birth to Shiz to my death. By the end I was snuffling in a rare show of emotion; Nethri gathered me close and hugged me tightly, comfortingly. I was surprised at the lack of pain the tears brought; in Oz, I did not cry for fear of the burning agony they brought. She murmured softly to me while rubbing my back soothingly. Eventually, I calmed down and she smiled kindly at me.

"Thanks Nethri," I said gratefully. "I needed that." She grinned.

"Anytime," she smiled, before suddenly stiffening. I looked at her concerned.

"What is it?" I asked. She shook her head slightly.

"You in the bush! Did your _nana _never tell you it is rude to eavesdrop?" she called angrily. My expression turned furious. How _dare _an Elf come and eavesdrop on a conversation that was_ clearly none of their business_? Then my eyes narrowed as I saw Elrond, Glorfindel and Erestor come out of the bush somewhat shamefacedly.

"You were eavesdropping?" I said, my voice deadly calm.

"Yes," answered Glorfindel.

"Why?" I barked, all pretence of calm abandoned. "There was a **reason** I asked if there was someplace private to discuss this!" I stopped abruptly before I started ranting, balling my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms.

"Because we wanted to know more to, and this seemed an ideal way for us to find out," murmured Elrond. I scowled at him. I was ready to spit lava.

"I'm sorry, Elphaba. It was wrong of us to act so, and I apologise," said Erestor. I took a deep breath in, and turned to Nethri.

"Let's go to the seamstresses now. That way I won't have to try to resist temptation to turn those three into newts," I told her. She nodded. She looked as furious as I did. As we strode past the three Lords, I saw her glare at each one in turn. I smiled grimly. _They deserve to be cuffed for that_, I thought as I saw them wince with some satisfaction.

We stalked off, both livid. We calmed down gradually, as we took the long route to the seamstresses' rooms, so that by the time we reached them we would (hopefully) not rip anyone's head off for the crime of breathing. Eventually, our tempers cooled from a boil to a simmer, and we felt ready to make polite conversation. We stopped at the door, and we breathed deeply in. Nethri knocked softly on the door and we were bade come in.

I opened the door and we stepped inside. The four seamstresses rose and greeted us, before hugging me while Nethri introduced me. They seemed surprised at how bony I was, and were speaking in shocked tones. I shot Nethri a pleading look, trying to convey my confusion to her. Her eyes widened suddenly in understanding, before she presumably conveyed that I could not speak Elvish. Comprehension and slight embarrassment settled on the Elves faces.

"Our apologies, Lady Elphaba, we should not have assumed you would speak Elvish," said one embarrassedly. I shook my head, grinning; they were embarrassed about that? That was nothing!

"No apologies necessary. But please, don't call me Lady. It is inaccurate when attributed to me," I laughed, as I sat on a chair. The other Elves laughed a little too, as they each pulled up a chair.

"What would you have us call you, then?" one inquired.

"You can call her Elphaba, Elphie... what were the other names?" Nethri started.

"Elphaba, Elphie, Fabala, Fae, or Elphaba the Delirious," I grinned. "I have picked up quite a few names over the years," I said, smiling.

"I think I'll call you Fae; short and sweet, I like it," grinned one.

"Fae," agreed the other three adamantly. I nodded.

"Now, I believe we have a wardrobe to design," reminded Nethri, bringing us back to the task at hand.

"Elphie, I am afraid that you now have to suffer being poked and prodded for a bit," said Nethri with a grin. I looked at her with a look of fake-shock on my face.

"I never would have picked you as a sadist, Nethri!" I replied with mock-horror. The seamstresses chuckled at our playful banter, before picking up their dreaded weapons of pins, needles, measurers and assorted other instruments. They poked and pushed and prodded for a few moments before looking a me in horror.

"You are so thin, Fae, you're like a twig! I can count every rib on you." I shrugged.

"I've always been on the lean and bony side, plus I wasn't eating particularly well the last few years," I replied calmly. The seamstresses shook their heads, and then poked and prodded a bit more. I breathed a sigh of relief when they appeared to finish poking and prodding. They sat down, took out parchment and charcoal and started sketching. they finished their sketches, which Nethri intercepted and handed to me. My jaw dropped in horror. There were ruffles and frills!

"No ruffles or frills please. Actually, no decoration at all if possible," I requested. The seamstresses rolled their eyes in exasperation, but complied. I smiled in relief. As I had said to Glinda so many years ago in Shiz: I don't wear pretty things. Well, it seemed I couldn't escape the elegance and beauty that would come from living with the Elves, but I still could escape overly-feminine clothing. Eventually, we were released from the seamstresses' clutches and I breathed a sigh of relief. I glanced at Nethri inquiringly.

"What's the time?" I asked her. She frowned briefly.

"Around mid-morning, why?" she asked me. I shrugged.

"I'm not sure on what I can do next but I know I'll get bored if I have nothing to do," I replied wryly. She nodded thoughtfully, before she clapped her hands.

"We can decorate your rooms!" she exclaimed gleefully. I grinned wickedly.

_Time to shake things up a little._

"What colour do you want?" Nethri quizzed me. I frowned. To put my plan into action, I had to get my hands on several colours.

"Is it possible to do multiple colours?" I asked her. She nodded, raising an inquiring eyebrow, clearly wondering about my reasons. I merely smiled. She led me to the supply closets where they stored paints. She lighted a few lamps, and showed me the labels. There were purples, blues, blacks, greens, oranges, yellows, everything! I smiled triumphantly, and grabbed a purple, green, blue and black can. I smirked, as I imagined the expression on Lord Elrond's face. It would be incredible. Nethri caught my evil smirk, and the same look gradually spread over her face too. It seemed that neither of us would be averse to a little revenge on Lord Elrond.

We procured drop-sheets, brushes, and stirring rods, before we made our way back to my room. Nethri and I laid the drop-sheets over the furniture and on the floor, making sure it covered all the spaces that could be stained. We exchanged conspiratorial glances and grabbed the black can, dragged it over to a wall, and lifted the lid off. We stirred the paint carefully. After a few minutes of this I started to hum a little tune that I used to sing to myself. It was a comforting and uplifting song.

"What's that tune, Elphie?" Nethri asked. I blushed, slightly embarrassed.

"It's called The Animal Song. I used to sing it when I was in a bad mood. It's quite uplifting," I said.

"Can you sing it?" asked Nethri. I nodded.

"As long as you don't laugh," I said solemnly. Nethri just nodded and smiled encouragingly. I took a deep breath and mentally played the opening accompaniment before I took a deep breath and began to sing. I closed my eyes and began to sing. I rejoiced in the melody, letting it wrap itself gently around me, running through it.

I let my voice trail off, letting the last notes fade away. Nethri had stopped stirring her paint, watching me. I looked at her, inviting comment.

"You have a beautiful voice Elphie. If you were ever to receive an Elvish name, I would choose Celeblir, 'silver-song'." I blushed at the compliment.

"Thanks. Come on, we have a room to paint!" Nethri continued stirring, a bit quicker. I exhaled briefly in relief, thanking any listening deity or Fate that I could stop blushing. We finished stirring the paint, and we dipped our brushes into the can, before we began to paint the wall. I convinced Nethri to sing a working song, which I applauded, before begging her to teach me it. She did so, and then we sang it as a duet as we cheerfully worked our way over the wall. Eventually, we finished the wall and stepped back to admire our handiwork. The wall pitch black, a pure raven black that gleamed, as if filled with some inner purpose, some need to shine. I grinned in satisfaction, loving the dark shade more and more. Nethri looked at the wall appreciatively.

"Time now?" I asked her. She looked out the window and frowned briefly.

"We have lunch in about ten minutes," she said. "Also, we need to wash our hands. We can't go to lunch with paint splattered all over them," she grinned. I nodded, and she stepped in to wash her hands. She looked at me as I hung back.

"What's wrong, Elphie?" she asked, seeing me cringe.

"Water allergy, remember?" I prompted her. She frowned.

"Elphie, you're an Elf now. I don't think you will melt if you wash properly," she said gently. My eyes widened.

"This is my second life you're talking about," I told her.

"Yes. And although you've retained your green skin that you're so proud of, I do not think you have retained your allergy," said Nethri gently. I took a deep breath, and stepped into the washroom. Forcing myself to ignore my instincts, which were screaming at me to run, I cautiously dipped my fingertips into the basin. I gaped in shock when it didn't hurt one bit. I grinned joyfully at Nethri, who for all her supposed calm and reassurance, was watching me anxiously.

We washed up, dried our hands and exited my rooms. We walked down to lunch with springs in our steps, exhilarated by the simple work. We walked over to the table, seating ourselves in the places we had sat this morning. I sensed someone sit down to my left, and sensed Nethri tense. I glanced at the person in my peripheral vision.

"Lord Elrond," I said coolly. He winced slightly at the chill in my voice.

"Lady Elphaba," he returned, tone neutral.

"How may I help you, my lord?" I asked.

"I came to apologise for my actions today. It was disrespectful of me to so blatantly disregard your privacy," he said, tone contrite. I looked at him with a sardonic eyebrow.

"Disrespectful? I've dealt with a lot worse. Please, do not tell me you are sorry when you are not," I replied crisply.

"Then it is a good thing that I truly am sorry," Elrond replied diplomatically. I attempted to keep my face impassive for a few moments; unfortunately, I was unable to prevent the grin breaking out on my face.

"You play this game very well, Elrond," I commented. He grinned briefly and inclined his head slightly.

"As do you, Elphaba, as do you," he said. He thought briefly about something, before he extended his hand to me. "Truce?" he asked me.

"Peace," I responded. He exhaled in relief, and suddenly the tension vanished from the atmosphere. Nethri relaxed and we settled down to our lunch.


	5. Literature and the Library

Tsebras are Zebras (I think).

Author's Note

WARNING: ELPHABA SWEARS IN THIS CHAPTER. SWEARING IS CANNONICAL WICKED-WISE. 

Disclaimer: See previous chapter!

Mithlach = Grey Flame

Angolant = Magic Gift

Sítheron = Peace Lover

Istion = Son of Knowledge

Tinuast = Stardust

Saeros = Bitter Rain

Ringris = Cold Ravine 

Corephedil = Sly Follower

Nethril = Weaver

Gellfuin = Joyful Night

Glirwing = Songspray

~Hannah~

Elphaba will eventually learn to fight, and I do believe that she will play a part in the resistance. This is set light years before Gilraen (Aragorn's mother, PM me for more info) comes to Imladris, seeking shelter. I may or may not do a 10th Walker. 

Nethri and I finished our lunch and skipped merrily up to my room, determined to finish the first coats of paint by tomorrow evening. I grinned widely.

_Two Elf-Lords down, one to go._

But I had a feeling that eliciting an apology from Glorfindel would be a good deal harder than distilling apologies had been with Erestor and Elrond. We burst into my rooms and sat down for a few moments to catch our breath, at least I needed to. I selected the purple paint, and dragged it into the centre of the floor. I began to sing the working song that Nethri, and she joined in after a few moments. We sang the song out in lusty voices, just singing to prevent boredom. We stirred the paint vigorously, injecting all our enthusiasm into it. I grinned as we dragged brushes and paint cans over to another wall, and started painting it.

I decided to make this wall rather unusual, and so I showed Nethri some common symbols that were found in the Grimmerie, and we painted them on the wall so that it looked like a frieze. We sang songs as we worked, collecting many curious glances directed at my rooms, I'm sure. We went at the wall with gusto, shocking even ourselves with our enthusiasm. I couldn't help laughing; if the general public of Oz could see me now. The Wicked Witch of the West, laughing with a friend as she painted bedroom walls. They probably would have viewed me with even more trepidation. We finally finished the wall, after another hour and a half. We stepped back to admire our handiwork, grinning with satisfaction as we saw the total randomness of the frieze. Attractive, but shockingly different, adding confusion to the feeling of it. We chortled in satisfaction at the sight.

We then grabbed both cans that had been opened and took them to a corner where they couldn't be tripped over. We selected the blue can and levered it open. We sat in companionable silence, before I asked Nethri about any funny happenings she had witnessed lately. I cracked up as she related an hilarious incident a few years earlier, involving poison ivy, green dye, hair, and extremely bitchy personalities. We set about painting the third wall with blue Tsebra-style stripes. Nethri raised an inquiring eyebrow when I told her about the design. I merely chortled in combined hilarity and the ridiculous nature of the situation.

"What about your life, Nethri?" I asked her. She cocked her head to one side teasingly.

"Curious, are we now?" she asked mischievously. I nodded.

"Humour me," I replied.

"Well, my Nana and Ada, my mother and father, still live in Imladris. I shall not be living for them for much longer though," she answered.

"Oh, why?" I asked. Her features began to transform into an utterly love-struck expression.

"I am to be married to my betrothed soon," she replied, her tone dreamy. I looked at her with tolerance mixed with curiosity.

"Mm-hm. Tell me about him. I want to know whether my friend is marrying an Elf that will treat her well or not," I added.

"I believe you've met him actually. He's called Istion."

"Yes, I've met him. He seems all right."

"I'm not sure where to begin," she said, a very slight blush creeping onto her face.

"Start with his personality," I suggested.

"He's kind, compassionate, and very sweet. He's also very curious about anything different. He's fiercely loyal and quite protective and possessive of me," she said.

"Must be fun," I remarked. "So, how did you meet?" I continued.

"I've known him since I was a child. Ten years after I reached my majority, my coming-of-age as it were, I started to realise my feelings were more than friendship. An Elf comes of age at fifty, and I'm sixty-five now. That is probably the mortal equivalent of thirty-two. Anyway, when I was sixty, I started to realize I loved him. That year, he asked me to the Midwinter dance. I accepted and that night he confessed he loved me too," she said. I looked at her.

"And you've been betrothed... how long?" I asked.

"Oh about... three years."

"Only three? A friend of mine was engaged for thirteen years once. So, when's the wedding?"

"Nine months from now. We haven't started planning the wedding yet."

"Can I be a bridesmaid?" I asked. She looked at me, bemused.

"Bridesmaid?" she queried.

"Ah, in Oz it's customary for a bride to have some attendants, traditionally her close friends." She nodded her comprehension.

"Yes, you can be a bridesmaid," she replied.

We went back to work on the wall and soon had it finished. We decided to resume tomorrow, and we put the equipment on the table in the room. I beamed as I looked over what we had accomplished. Purple magical symbols on white, a gleaming unadorned jet-black wall and blue stripes on white wall. It was crazy, inconsistent, totally out of place, and I loved it. Nethri and I washed up, before we decided to go for a walk around. We walked around the corridors before Nethri asked me if I would like to go to the library, to which I just nodded eagerly. We walked calmly to the library - or rather, Nethri walked calmly, and I hurried along. Nethri opened the doors and I stood in awe at the sheer size of it. The air was quiet and reverent, and there was nearly no one in the library at all, except a dignified, graceful but busy figure moving about.

"Erestor basically runs the library as well as being Elrond's Chief Counsellor. He also teaches the Elflings of Imladris," she said to me quietly. I nodded.

"Lord Erestor!" Nethri called softly. He turned around and walked over to us.

"Yes, how can I help?" he asked.

"I was wondering, do you have any books written in the Common Tongue?" I asked.

"Yes, we have a few over there," he replied, gesturing to the far side. I thanked him, and Nethri and I strode over to the place. I clasped my hands in glee.

This library is huge! It's practically three times the size of the one at Crage Hall!

We began to industriously search the library for books. I was delighted to see many crime mysteries, as well as a few novels that had caught my eye; all set in settings very similar to the harsh life of Oz. I began to ruthlessly - well, ruthlessly-ish - culling the books until I had a select few in my hands. I tenderly stroked the covers of the books, nodding my approval of them; Garottes in the Alleyway, Bloodied Souls, Mind Games, Manipulation of Assassination, Thieves of Some Small Honour and Mesmerised. I gathered them up, and placed them gently on the table, where Nethri had gathered a few novels. I looked askance at the first two, which seemed like a Middle-Earth version of some soppy romances that Glinda used to delight in reading and by extension, torturing me with. Nethri however, did insist on me taking The Lay of Lúthien and Beren. I looked at her quite seriously.

"Tell me, just one thing; is there a plot to that thing?" I asked, pointing to said book. Nethri looked at me in horror.

"A plot? It's about how two lovers stole a Silmaril from Morgoth himself!" she exclaimed. I raised an eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a yes, even though I don't know who Morgoth is," I replied.

I was amused, and slightly relieved; I was starting to think that Elves never, ever blew their cool. Now I knew they just had large levels of tolerance. I smirked, thoroughly satisfied with our findings.

"Is there a place in the library where I can just sit and read?" I asked Nethri. She cocked her head to the right in thought.

"Come to think of it, yes, there is." She took my hand and some of the books, and led me to a small circle of couches and armchairs, clearly designed for relaxing with a book. I immediately flopped gracelessly into a cream armchair, before beginning to ponder which of the books we had gathered to read first. I selected Mind Games from the pile of books and jackknifed myself into a compact, tucked position.

Nethri excused herself after a few minutes, asking me if there was anything else I would need. I merely shook my head no, and told her to go on. She smiled at me, and quietly left me to fall back into the book, which I did with great delight. I read, fascinated by the book's demonstration of two enemies who drove each other up the wall with great ease, (in one character's case, inadvertency) and sadism. I was so engrossed that I did not notice the time slipping through my fingers. I was, therefore, extremely startled when I heard a small, apologetic cough near me. I whipped around to see Erestor, standing near a bookshelf almost awkwardly.

_If he's feeling awkward, it's mutual._

"Lord Erestor. To what do I owe this pleasure?" I said, as neutrally as I could. I had not forgotten the eavesdropping incident earlier this morning. Clearly, he hadn't either.

"Lady Elphaba. I wanted to inform you that it is nearly time for the evening meal," he said awkwardly. I smiled a little at him.

"Thank you. Could you help me carry some of these books to my room?" I said, trying to convey that I had already forgiven him. Erestor cracked a tiny, just visible grin.

"Gladly." He gathered up an armful of some of the books, and I did the same. We exited the library, and I led the way to my chamber. Halfway through our walk, I realized that Erestor would see the walls of my room. I shrugged inwardly.

After all, it may well be a good test of Erestor's acceptance of the different.

I opened the door and put my armful of books down on the desk, and looked at the expression on Erestor's face. I felt rather disappointed. I had expected more of a reaction than slightly raised eyebrows. Erestor passed his armful of books over to me, being strangely careful to stand outside the room. I wondered at this as I took the books from him and placed them on the desk.

"May I escort you, Lady Elphaba?" he asked me, with a small smile on his face.

"Oh, surely," I replied with a slight smile on my face. I placed a hand on his arm, and then we strode forward out of the room down to the dining hall.

We exited the room and walked down to the dining hall. As we entered, I heard a few whispers begin to move through the room. I speculated internally on what they could be talking about. I scanned the table for Nethri, and found her sitting with Istion and some other Elves. I thanked Erestor for the escort, and moved to the seat next to Nethri that was unoccupied.

"Is anyone sitting here?" I asked politely. I did place some small value on asking questions like that; not for civility, but because they helped avoid unpleasant confrontations.

"Elphie! Sit down, please," said Nethri. I sat down awkwardly and pulled in my chair.

"Elphie, meet Glirwing and Niphredil."

"Pleasure to meet you," I said cordially. "The pleasure's all ours," said the Elf called Glirwing. I studied her. She had blonde hair with light blue eyes.

_Elves must be uniformly pretty. I wonder if that makes me beautiful... scary train of thought... Very scary indeed._

"Are you truly from a different world?" asked Glirwing wide-eyed.

"Yes." I said nonchalantly. I concealed a smirk at the astonished faces of Glirwing and Niphredil.

"Do you miss it?" asked Niphredil eventually. I didn't even pretend to consider it.

"No. I didn't exactly have the greatest life in my old world," I explained.

"Maybe that's why you're here," Nethri mused.

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

"No offence Elphie, but your life in Oz was pretty bad. Maybe one of your world's Powers sent you here for a second chance, a better life," Nethri explained. My eyes widened and I started to shake my head slowly.

"Nethri... you're a bloody genius," I said. Nethri grinned.

"Oh no, Elphaba. I think that title goes to you," she said.

"Stop," I commanded, sensing an account of my Shizian years coming on.

"She," Nethri began, pointing to me. "Managed to juggle her social life-"

"Easy when it's practically non-existent," I interrupted.

"Her studies," continued Nethri.

"Again, pretty easy."

"Her work as a teacher's assistant."

"I had help with that!"

"AND taking care of her younger sister!" finished Nethri.

"It wasn't that hard!" I cried, my cheeks hot. I knew that they were a dark green. The Elves were observing us with amusement. I guessed that the behaviour I was displaying was a bit entertaining.

"You two are acting like sisters," said Istion thoughtfully. My eyebrows skyrocketed; my sister had only acted ashamed of me.

"Is that how most sisters act?" I asked. The Elves nodded.

"Another thing I missed out on," I grumbled. I brightened up as I saw the food being brought out. Nethri chuckled at my change in mood and I shrugged at her. I liked my food, and Kiamo Ko hadn't exactly the best of supplies. We settled down to eat, and we made some small small talk. I learnt that Glirwing worked in the kitchens, and that Niphredil and Nethril were both maids. Istion worked as a scribe in the library, except for his monthly week-long patrol with the Imladris Guard. I had thought I'd managed to deflect most questions about my former life until...

"What did you do, Elphaba?" asked Niphredil.

_Shit._

"Um... I was an anarchist and a witch," I said. I bit the inside of my lip. However, if I'd been expecting them to gasp and distance themselves from me, I was seriously wrong.

"Yes, an anarchist... in a city where the government was systematically stripping citizens of their rights," added Nethri.

"Yes, but still an anarchist," I reaffirmed.

"Very true, but against a government that was killing its own people," retorted Nethri. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, that is true," I admitted finally. I glanced at the other Elves, and nearly did a double-take. They were looking at me with was that... admiration? Respect? I couldn't tell.

After dinner, Nethri turned and smiled at me.

"What is it?" I said bluntly. She frowned mock-angrily at me.

"You should come and see the Hall of Fire. There's is music and storytelling in the evenings," she replied.

"I'd... I think I'd like that," I answered, a little uncertainly.

* * *

**_Author's Note_**

**_I rather dislike this chapter, because I was stuck on it for sometime. Now, dear readers, I have heartbreaking news. I will not be able to update regularly until after November. It's Yr 7, Term 4 and my exams are starting precisely two weeks from now. TTFN_**

**_Lizinsky_**


	6. Mendacity and Musings

_**DON'T KILL ME! *ducks flying objects* I CAN EXPLAIN! *flying objects stop* Okay, my sister is worried about my fanfic habit, and I haven't had as much time as I would like during the past week or so to write.**_

_***gasp* Since I am neither L. Frank Baum nor am I a medical expert (despite both my parents being doctors), I have no idea if the little biological details would be like this. This is just my so-so knowledge of anatomy combined with my imagination. A dicey combination, you should note, so ... don't be surprised if it's more than a little weird.**_

_**Disclaimer: See previous chapter! I don't own "Colours of the Wind". Disney does! I don't own "We Will Rock You"! Queen does! I don't even own the Jackal Moon! Gregory Maguire does. Help yourself to my OCs, exempting Glirwing, Nethril and Istion. Nethril and Istion are most definitely mine, and Glirwing belongs to the anonymous reviewer Glirwing/Hannah.**_

_**More cussing! Much more cussing! CUSS ALERT CUSS ALERT!**_

_**Setting revision: Approximately 50 years before Gilraen comes to Imladris. To be specific: T.A 2887 - Hey, that's light years for an Elf!**_

_**Yo, Glirwing! There's gonna be some cool stuff happening in the next chapter. In the meantime, some music!**_

_**Can anyone guess what fanfic Mind Games is based on? Hint: Glor' and 'Stor trilogy. Balrogs, Wings, and the Wyze.**_

_**Celonith = River mist**_

_**Story time! My preciouses!**_

_**

* * *

**_

We entered the Hall of Fire and we sat on the floor near where some of the minstrels were gathering. I studied the instruments there carefully. There were several domingon-like instruments, a harp, several flutes and two drums. One of the musicians came over and spoke to us.

"A new face! Excellent. I'm not sure if your companions have told you but it's customary for a newcomer to sing a song the first time they come to the Hall of Fire, at some point during the evening."

I turned my head to face Nethril, very, very, slowly. The Elf who had spoken, quickly excused himself (he probably saw the murderous look on my face). Nethri's impassive face broke out into a mischievous grin.

"You. Did. Not. Just. Set. Me. Up!" I growled angrily at her. Nethri just nodded cheerfully; in that moment, I could have happily asphyxiated her. I scowled darkly at her; I would so get her for this.

"Oh, don't worry! It'll be fun!" she said merrily. Too merrily for my liking, in my current mood. I looked at Istion.

"How many glasses of wine has she had?" I asked him flatly.

"I think she drank a few glasses of spirits," he said. I face-palmed: precisely what I did not need.

I should just get the damned thing over with.

On that note, I got up and I approached the group of musicians. They were still tuning the domingon-like instruments, and checking the flutes and harps.

"Can I sing my piece now?" I asked without preamble.

"If you like," replied one.

"Do you require an accompaniment?" asked another.

"No thank you," I said quickly.

"What is your name, milady?" asked the musician at the harp.

"Elphaba," I answered, too distracted to notice the deferential term.

The musician nodded and strode forward to a space that everyone seemed to be gathered around. The Hall fell silent. I cursed Nethri internally, before forcing myself not to die of mortification when the Lords Erestor, Glorfindel and Elrond entered.

"My lords, ladies, gentlemen. Tonight we are proud to present a newcomer singing first. Ladies and gentlemen, a round of applause for the Lady Elphaba!" introduced the drummer. He bowed quickly before discreetly exiting the stage. I took a deep breath, gathered my resolve and courage, and stepped forward onto the stage-area. I waited until the murmurs died, before I began to sing.

_"You think that I'm just an ignorant savage, _

_And you've been so many places; I guess it must be so,_

_But I still cannot see, if the savage one is me,_

_How can there be so much that you don't know?_

_You don't know..._

_You think you own whatever that you land on..._

_The earth is just a dead thing you can claim..._

_But I know every rock and tree and creature..._

_Has a life, and like a person, has a name._

_You think the only people who are people..._

_Are the people who look and think like you, _

_But if you walk the footsteps of the stranger, _

_You'll learn things you never knew you never knew._

_Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the Jackal Moon?_

_Or asked the grinning Wildcat why he grins?_

_Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains,_

_Can you paint with all the colours of the wind?_

_Can you paint with all the colours of the wind?_

_Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest,_

_Come taste the sun-kissed berries of the earth._

_Come roll in all the riches all around you._

_And for once, never wonder what they're worth.._

_The rainstorm and the river are my brothers,_

_The heron and the otter are my friends, _

_And we are all connected to each other..._

_In a circle, in a loop that never ends..._

_Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the Jackal Moon,_

_Or let the Eagle tell you where he's been?_

_Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains,_

_Can you paint with all the colours of the wind?_

_Can you paint with all the colours of the wind?_

_How high does a sycamore grow?_

_If you cut it down, then you'll never know._

_And you'll not hear the wolf cry, to the Jackal Moon,_

_For no matter what the colour of our skin,_

_We need to sing with all the voices of the mountain,_

_We need to paint with all the colours of the wind._

_You can own the Earth but still,_

_All you'll own is earth until,_

_Until you paint with all the colours of the wind."_

I let the last note linger, before I stopped, and bowed my head to wipe a tear surreptitiously from my eyes. The cell I worked in as a young woman had made that song theirs; the cell's drive was that the Wizard was deliberately inciting racism, and methodically stripping Oz of its incredible diversity. I had sang it to myself every time I began to lose resolve, every time I began to wonder why I was making my life harder for myself. The song reminded me of Fiyero in a way, and how the racism that the Wizard had infected Oz with, affected both of us.

I smiled sadly; I still hadn't fully gotten over Fiyero. Well, that was not quite true; I had healed enough to carry on at the mauntery, but Dorothy's pleas for forgiveness had shattered the fortress I had built around me, had shook the already fragile foundations of my sanity to the very core of my being; small wonder I had set myself on fire.

_Maybe one day I'll stop grieving fully._

I just registered applause from my friends. I noted that the three Elf-lords had moved over to stand near them. The entire group was standing up. I smiled, a bit more cheerful. I had my woes, but I had friends again in this new world. I had friends, I had my broom and I had the Grimmerie. With help like that, I could and would take whatever this world had to throw at me. I inclined my head deeply to the audience, and I swiftly exited the limelight. I sighed in relief. It was over. Then I noticed the harpist approach me.

"Lady Elphaba?" he asked.

"Yes."

"I was wondering if, perhaps, you would like to learn an instrument," he said tentatively. I smiled broadly. I had always loved music as a child, but we had never the money to afford an instrument or learn it.

"I'd love to. Could we begin lessons tomorrow?" I asked eagerly. He smiled.

"Certainly. Would half an hour after lunch, in this Hall be convenient?" he replied.

"Oh yes," I answered.

"Very well. I am Lindir, by the way. I will see you tomorrow," he said before walking back to his harp. I grinned. Things were looking up.

I threaded my way through the crowd to my friends, who had migrated to the back of the room. They grinned as they saw me coming and Nethri clapped me on the back.

"Good job, Elphie." I glared at her. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked jovially.

"Far too merciful. I've a better idea, which I shall not share," I answered. She nodded, seeming to accept that.

"You sang a beautiful song," said Niphredil.

_Double shit. How long before the question? Ugh, now Elrond is definitely going to kick me out! How long again? Okay, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1..._

Sure enough, right on cue...

"May I inquire as to where you learned it?" asked Erestor curiously.

"I learned it in the cell. We believed the Wizard was taking away parts of Oz' natural diversity by discriminating against the Animals. That song became our anthem, you could say," I said. He nodded, clearly interested. I smiled slightly.

"I would like to learn more about this land of Oz. If that's all right with you, Lady Elphaba," he said.

"It'd be my pleasure," I answered sincerely. I suddenly felt exhausted, and I hid an enormous yawn behind my hand.

"Would you like to adjourn to one of the gardens, Elphie?" asked Nethril. I thanked any listening Power for the intervention, and preventing an highly awkward silence.

"Sure," I answered. Nethri grabbed Glirwing's wrist, who promptly latched on to Niphredil, who in turn, caught onto mine. We were a four-Elf chain. A strange sight indeed.

"Niphredil, you lead," I said.

"As you wish, milady," she replied cheerily. We ambled out of the Hall and through some corridors, walking to what Niphredil called her "secret garden".

I gasped slightly as I saw it. It was breath-taking; there was a large pond, that shone like molten silver, and the lush green grass glimmered like marble.

"Are you going to sit down?" asked Niphredil.

"I am," I replied, plopping myself into the grass. I'd always liked being in moonlight; it seemed to made me look a bit more normal. We sat for some minutes in a companionable silence.

"Tell us about yourself, Elphaba," Glirwing suddenly said. I bit my lip for a few minutes. I didn't feel up to relating what I had told Nethri.

"It's rather a long tale. But may I ask you something? If your sister had been killed, your sister's killer had taken one of her heirlooms that had been left to you, you'd been asked to forgive said individual, when you yourself hadn't been forgiven for inadvertently causing the death of your lover, your hopes that your lover was coming back were dashed, and you hadn't slept for several days. Would you have a nervous breakdown?"

During the question, I had turned my head away from their lines of vision, not wanting to see their expressions. Now, I gathered up my courage, and looked at their expressions. They were as expected; shocked, horrified, and dumbstruck. Finally, Glirwing found her voice.

"Elphaba. I would have broken down after the first one. Are you saying it was after all of that you had a breakdown?" she asked. I raised an eyebrow in my head; surely that wasn't amazement in her voice.

"Elphie's good at coping," replied Nethril, with something akin to pride in her voice.

"Is that how you like to be addressed? Elphie?" queried Niphredil. I began to twine some of my hair up and down my index finger.

"Well, it's how some people addressed me," I told her.

"It's a good _epessë_," murmured Glirwing.

"A good what?" I asked, frowning.

"An _epessë_, a name that is given to a person by their friends and family," supplied Niphredil.

"Ah, right. Then again, I have about three epessës, by that token."

"Really?" asked Glirwing.

"Yes," I answered, trying to hide a yawn, in vain.

"Tired, Elphie?" Nethri asked with a smile. I nodded.

"'Fraid so."

"Come on, then," she said gently. She helped me up, and took me back to my room.

"Thanks for everything, Nethri," I said to her when we reached my door.

"You're welcome. Sweet dreams, Elphie!" she replied, turning and going off down the hall. I walked into the room, shut the door behind me and catapulted myself onto the bed, grunting slightly as I landed on my belly. I wriggled under the covers and soothed myself to sleep, by recalling the sounds of the wind singing melodies that soared, swooped and sighed, in the tall Quoxwood trees that abounded in Shiz.

* * *

I woke up in the darkness of the early morning, perhaps around four or five, giving a small but loud scream as I bolted upright in bed, panting and gasping for breath. I shuddered as I remembered the dream.

I was back in Kiamo Ko, with the glass elliptical ball, and the insomnia. I was writhing on the bed in a subconscious reaction to the visions that just couldn't be true ... but, of course, were.

The nightmare had flashed forward to Dorothy's pleas and the torment. The agony that overwhelmed me as the fire licked my skin hungrily, the sudden collision of the water and fire, the water as it vanquished the fire before dissolving into my skin, seeking my bloodstream, entering my veins, eroding their tunnels and consuming my heart. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the images before I jackknifed myself into a foetal position, instinctively attempting to still the paroxysms that racked my body. I let out a small sob into my knees.

"Elphie?" came a soft, gentle question from the door. I glanced up at the direction of the voice.

Nethri ... but how did she hear me?

"Nethri," I whispered. Nethri acted quickly, lighting a lamp and striding across the room to where I was folded up on the bed. She settled herself at the opposite end of the bed, and gazed at me calmly.

"Did I wake you up?" I asked, guilt settling in my throat.

"Yes, you did. It's quite all right, Elphie. I don't think anyone else heard it," she soothed. "Now, tell me, what made you scream so?" she asked, the gentle reassurance on her face changing to concern. I swallowed.

"Nightmare," I managed.

"What about?" she asked calmly.

"My death," I eventually replied. Her eyes widened.

"Was it painful?" she eventually inquired.

"Yes. Yes, it was."

Nethril frowned, clearly thinking on some issue or other. Eventually, her frown vanished.

"Come. There is something you should see," she informed me briskly. I nodded, and motioned for her to get off the bed.

I threw the covers off myself, and swung my legs over the sides, stretching the kinks out of my back. Nethril smiled, beckoning to me from her position in the doorway. I ambled over unhurriedly, raising a single eyebrow in question. She merely placed a finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet. I nodded and we strode silently down the softly lit halls. Nethril took my hand and guided me through a maze of winding, twisting paths that eventually led to a garden. We sat down, and eventually I decided to break the silence.

"So, why are we out here at this hour of morning?" I asked.

"To talk. I believe it is easier outdoors," she answered calmly.

"About what? You should know I'm terrible with gossip," I said, my tone seemingly bored.

"If you say so. Let's try again. How are you today, Lady Elphaba?" she said, her tone become formal.

That little... using formality... bugger it, this is annoying. Hmph! Friends, sometimes.

"I am not as verbose as Dr Lenx the Boar was, nor am I as socially adept as you are, Nethril, came my cool reply. Nethril's eyes narrowed.

"How was your sleep, my lady?"

"My sleep was fitting, thank you," I answered, my tone becoming curt.

This was a game I had mastered. I could play it in my sleep. Right?

"How was your nightmare?" she inquired, her tone sickeningly bright and cheerful. I grimaced; she was not at all bad at it, either. Perhaps I was not the master.

"My nightmare was painful, scary and disturbing; the perfect dream," I replied, my tone civil but neutral.

"I am so glad to hear that, my lady. I would hate to think that you were dreaming happily at night."

"I gave up on happiness a while ago," I said nonchalantly, shrugging. That penetrated, I could tell.

"Why, Elphie? Miss Elphaba the Delirious, why?" she exclaimed, dropping the whole sadistic-maid act.

"I have never felt happiness. I have never experienced it, nor is there any scientific proof that it truly exists. Therefore, it is illogical to believe it exists and attempt to pursue it," I explained.

"Yes, because you **always** rule with your head instead of your emotions, and you've **neve**r let your logic be overridden. Honestly, Elphie, that argument coming from you is simply hypocritical," she retorted angrily.

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps? Perhaps! Oh, for Eru's **sake** Elphie, just tell me what the nightmare was about!" she cried, exasperated. I gazed flatly, implacably at her, before saying one word.

"No."

"Why not?" Nethri said.

"Because, you silly woman, I do not burden my friends with knowledge that I can cope with myself!" I snapped, finally losing my patience.

"That's my point, Elphie! You can't cope with it. And the nightmares are a sign of that," she replied. I scowled.

"I have always coped, Nethril! And a different world, cannot, and will not change that!" I cried, furious. Nethri leapt to her feet, and paced around the garden, breathing hard from trying to restrain her temper. I looked away from her.

_Why does friendship seem to require this much?_

Finally, Nethri's expression cleared.

"Yes, you always coped. Yes, you have always survived. But do you know why you survived, Elphie?" she said. I shook my head. "You survived because of need. You had to be the strong one, the invincible rock. But here, there is no such need right now. Closing up doesn't help in situations like this."

I closed my eyes.

_Why does silence now seem so hard to maintain?_

My mind flashed to a memory.

_**"What kind of friend would I be, to put you at risk?" I asked.**_

_**"What kind of friend would I be if I did not let you?" retorted Boq.**_

_Friends lean on each other. They draw strength from each other, and indeed, from giving strength to the other. Leaning on someone is not parasitical. There is a big difference, little Fabala,_ a voice seemed to whisper in my mind. I registered all this and came to a decision.

Opening my eyes, I saw Nethril looking at me with a swirl of different emotions on her face: concern, compassion, calm, gentleness, and pleading.

"Fine. You win, Nethri," I muttered. She nodded.

"Now, what was the nightmare about?" she asked me softly.

"It was near the end." She did not need any clarification as to what 'the end' referred to. "I was at Kiamo Ko and I was seeing these horrible visions. Then I died. But this time I could sense precisely what the water was doing to my body. I could feel it destroying my body, bit by bit. It was so painful."

My tone was flat and devoid of emotion. I kept my face impassive, blank, desperate to keep my composure. I could not, would not, break down. Nethril laid a single hand on my shoulder. I smiled inwardly. That single gesture was more comforting than any words she could have said.

The silence descended on us both again. It seemed as though both Nethri and I subscribed to the view, that if there was nothing that needed to be said, then speech was not required.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if the impromptu counselling session was not entirely over.

"What do you think is happening to your family right now?" asked Nethril. I looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

"One deep-and-meaningful-conversation is not enough for one day?"

"Elphie, that's how some people work. Somehow, I don't think that's how you work. I believe that while many people work in moderation mainly, you work chiefly in extremes. So, a moderate method wouldn't for you. It has to be extreme," she explained.

I looked at her.

"Are all Elves as sharp as you?" I asked her. She smiled.

"No, not quite. I'm just uncommonly good at sizing people up. It's a good gift to have. Besides, you told me much of your story. Part natural ability, part common sense, and part inference from your story."

"How elementary now that you explain it. Hmm, let's see. Nanny first. She will be awfully confused about what is happening, but Chistery or Liir will look after her. Probably Chistery, judging by the way Liir was gaping at that ... child. Liir should do all right. It's not as if he will miss me too much. I was a seriously bad mother. I guess I was as bad as Melena in that respect. Frex... well, he's always survived, no matter the blow. The bastard has the knack for it. Shell's a naughty little piece of work, and I don't know what he'll grow up to be. As for Nor... I can only hope."

"Sometimes, all we can do is hope, Elphie," she answered gently. I smiled sadly.

"I suppose so," I conceded. Nethril's features morphed into a playful smirk.

"Look," she said, pointing to the sky. I followed her gaze, and sucked my breath in sharply.

The sun had been silently creeping up to the peaks of the mountains and was peeking over. The rays slanted down onto the ponds, rivers, streams, and waterfalls of Imladris, and glittered and danced on the surfaces. My eyes widened at the dazzling sight.

"Beautiful, eh?" asked Nethril.

"Yeah," I whispered. "You know, we didn't get dawns like these in Oz," I said conversationally, trying to leave the previous subject.

"Elphie, you can't get sunrises like these anywhere else. And I mean, anywhere," she replied firmly. I stuck my tongue childishly for a moment, which only made her laugh.

"Ah, that feels good," chuckled Nethril. I smiled wryly.

"Glad to be so amusing. Now, shall we have breakfast?" I asked, my belly beginning to complain.

"Yes," she agreed. I smiled, getting to my feet, and dusting my dress off.

"Do you have any idea when the seamstresses will have my clothes ready?" I asked idly.

"Tomorrow, or the day after," she answered, leading me through the corridors. The maids were still setting up. I glanced at Nethril.

"Can I help them set up?" I asked her. She shrugged.

"If you like," was her response. I grinned, and walked over to the nearest maid.

"Can I help you?" I asked. She glanced up at me, her eyes widening.

"Lady Elphaba?" she asked.

"That's me. Can I help you?" I asked her.

"What do you mean, my lady?" she asked. I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

"I mean, can I help you? With setting the table?" I asked.

"Oh! Erm.. If you like, my lady," she said awkwardly.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. "I'm new here, so ... if you could show me where the things are, I would be really grateful."

"Certainly, my lady."

There it was again! That wretched 'my lady'.

"Please, just call me Elphaba," I answered. The maid shook her head as she led me to a different room, and showed me a cupboard, filled with stacked plates. She handed me an armful, which I gripped firmly with both hands.

"I cannot do that, my lady," she informed me, grabbing an armful of plates herself.

"Why not?" I asked her.

"It would not be proper, my lady. You are of higher rank than I," she replied, sounding shocked.

"But I'm not! Everyone thinks I am, but I am not of noble birth or of great rank. I am equal to you, not above or below you," I retorted.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really. I am not a lady." I affirmed.

"Oh," she said.

"And if you'd tell that to everyone, I'd appreciate it," I added as an afterthought.

We gradually finished setting the table, and I smiled slightly at her.

"Would you like to sit with Nethril and I?" I asked.

"Thank you, but I must help the others."

"Then just eat quickly with us, because you'll also have to help clear the table away afterwards," I persuaded. She considered this briefly.

"All right then, Elphaba." We walked quickly over to where Nethril was standing, keeping an eye on the room, and she looked up as she saw us coming. She greeted the other Elf warmly, before introducing her to me as Celonith. We sat down and wolfed down our food swiftly ... well, I wolfed it down. Nethri and Celonith managed to eat swiftly but elegantly at the same time. I shook my head.

"Elves!" I muttered.

"We are incredible," answered Celonith, jokingly. She had been a bit hesitant, but once I was friendly, she was refreshingly forward.

"Unnaturally graceful, you mean," I complained.

"You can't complain, you are one!" laughed Nethril. I stuck my tongue out again.

"Heading back to childhood, Elphaba?" Celonith teased.

"I feel like it. For some reason, I don't feel like an adult," I mused.

"Well, how old were you when you died?" Nethril asked.

" In my mid-fifties," I answered.

"So, had you been an Elf, you would be just about... Two years past maturity."

"So, in my current body... I'm the elven equivalent of twenty-five," I concluded.

"Something like that," Nethri answered. She stood up and stretched. "Are you nearly done, Elphaba?"

"I'm finished," I said. Celonith smiled, stood and excused herself quickly. Nethri and I quickly placed our plates on an empty trolley that stood near a door that led directly to the kitchen.

"What shall we do now?" I asked Nethril. She thought for a moment, before her face cleared.

"Finish painting your room," she answered. I smacked my forehead lightly.

"Of course! Silly me," I exclaimed. Nethril and I quickly walked back to my room, and after a few moments, I located the painting equipment where I had stowed it in the closet. We found the drop-sheets shoved under the bed in a ball. Nethril shook her head in amazement.

"How can you mess up a room that has barely anything in it?" she asked me incredulously. I shrugged.

"What can I say? I'm skilful," I retorted. She smiled wryly at that. I disentangled the sheets carefully, before shaking them out and strategically placing them below the unpainted wall. I seized the stirring stick, levering the lid open and beginning to stir the emerald liquid. Nethri squatted near me, her face staring at the paint with a strangely focused appearance to her gaze.

"What's with the face?" I asked her.

"Which face?"

"The fascinated-by-green-as-sin-paint face," I deadpanned.

"The face which I usually wear when I'm trying to observe as much as I can about a seemingly disinteresting subject," she answered.

"And what have you observed?" I asked, amused.

"Very little," she answered dryly.

"Care to tell me the few characteristics that you have observed?" I inquired.

"The paint is green, the motion of the stirring stick is creating some beautiful swirls that last for a total of about three moments, and then disappears, and the stick is half-swimming in paint."

"All of which are obvious," I smirked. Nethri pulled a face, and settled back onto her haunches, humming a little tune. I smiled, but refrained from singing, just choosing to listen instead. I stirred in time to the rhythm of the song. Eventually, the song came to an end, and by that time the paint was a suitable consistency. Nethril passed me a paintbrush, which I slowly dipped into the paint, and started to write on the wall with it.

Passion. Principles. Integrity. Intelligence. Curiosity. Courage.

At the bottom I wrote: The world is shaped by those who stand up.

"Those are some of the qualities that you value most, Elphie?" asked Nethril.

"Yes. Not many in Oz had them, though. Well, not the people I met with. What about people here?" I answered curiously, sitting back on my haunches to admire my work.

"I will not lie, Elphie. Every place has their share of..." she trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Fuckwits?" I suggested. I was certainly **not** giving up my nautical vocabulary.

"Your words, not mine," said Nethril dryly.

I heaved a sigh of mock-relief. "Well, that's two things that Oz and this world do have in common."

Nethril's lips twitched in amusement.

"On another note, would it be possible for you to teach me Elvish?"

"That depends on whether you want to be taught by a teacher or a maid," answered Nethril.

"Who is the teacher? Erestor?"

"Yes. But he can also teach you customs, history, culture and a great deal of other things, which I can't."

"Is he currently teaching any Elflings? I would not want to cause any trouble for him."

"I believe he is, so that shouldn't be any trouble."

"Can I start tomorrow?" I asked eagerly. I was getting tired of not knowing anything about this world. I wanted to learn.

"Certainly, he would not mind. In fact, he would love having a new student. Particularly one from such an eclectic background," she added mischievously.

"When does the lesson start and finish?" I asked.

"The lessons run for most of the morning, and then they stop at lunch."

"Perfect."

"But Elphie? Just so you know ... some of the Elflings might not be so pleasant to you," warned Nethril. I shrugged.

"Most likely, I won't be able to give a shit. It's not like I have done anything worth insults or disdain."

"Good girl," she said approvingly.

"One does one's best."

* * *

After the packing up was done and we had returned the equipment, I had grabbed Mind Games, and adjourned to the library's reading area. I settled into a slouched position, and began to flip through the pages, looking for my place. I gradually found it, and was soon engrossed in the story. I shall not describe it in vivid detail; suffice to say that I was grinning quite widely after several paragraphs.

I was jolted out of my trancelike state by the lunch bell, which I had not noticed at the previous times. I shook my head at my lack of observation. I glanced at the page number, 158, and tried to commit it to memory. Tucking the book under my arm, I began to make my way down to the dining hall. I was surprised when I actually arrived at my destination successfully. I looked around for Nethril, to find her at the middle of the table, with Istion, Celonith, Niphredil and Glirwing. I hurried over to them, noticing happily that they had saved a seat for me.

"Thanks for saving me a seat," I said.

"You're welcome," Istion answered.

"Did you come unescorted?" questioned Niphredil.

"Yes. Why?" I replied.

"Most consider it rather unusual for an elleth to go anywhere unescorted, particularly an unbetrothed or an unmarried elleth," explained Nethri, with a small chuckle.

"Why?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she replied, sounding thoughtful.

"You see, this is why I want to learn Elvish with Erestor's class."

"You want to do what?" asked Istion, his tone bordering on disbelieving.

"You are aware, Elphaba, that some the Elflings who are taught by Erestor, aren't very accepting of the different?" interjected Celonith.

"Yes, but what does that matter? If the ruler does accept me, then surely they cannot do much," I argued.

"There are those who disagree with Lord Elrond on a great deal of things," Niphredil pointed out.

"On what points and for what reasons?" I inquired.

"Well, on the border policy of Imladris, for one thing. Imladris' borders are for more open than other elven realms, such as Mirkwood."

"You still accost strangers."

"That is nothing compared to what other realms do. Imladris' borders are relatively open. But others dislike Elrond for a more personal reason," remarked Nethril.

"Such as?" I asked, one eyebrow raised.

"His bloodline. He is a Peredhil, a half-Elf, half mortal," Istion said.

"As in, half human, half-Elf?"

"Yes, exactly like that," he nodded.

"And why is there social stigma attached to that?" I said. Many of the Elves exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"Oh, just speak frankly," I growled.

"Many Elves believe themselves superior to the humans because ... well, let's just say the humans have had their share of failures."

I frowned, deceptively mildly.

"And, of course, the Elves haven't?" I inquired archly.

"Oh, we have, certainly. It's just that some Elves refuse to acknowledge that," explained Glirwing.

"Well, that's arrogant. On a different point, you said, half-Elf, half-mortal. Are the Elves not mortal?" I asked. This point was quite new to me. In Oz, the only things that were supposed to be immortal were the spirits and powers of the paranormal sphere.

"Did you not know, Elphie? The Eldar can only die through wounds to grievous to be healed, or of a broken heart," said Nethril.

"No, I didn't know. That's interesting."

Conveniently enough, the food came in a few moments later. As I gazed at the food with ravenous eyes, Elrond signalled the meal to begin. Wolfing down my food, I eventually managed to slow down enough to speak to them.

"It seems rather sad, immortality," I said, thoughtlessly; forgetting my own mortality, or lack thereof, not to mention that of those around me.

"Why?" asked Celonith, in an incredulous tone.

"Immortality gives immortals what mortals can never have more of. Time. But, it also means more willpower is needed for someone to achieve their goals. An immortal cannot truly know what it is, to just live for the moment. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" is a central theme of mortality. From the day a mortal arrives out of their mother's womb, their is more for that mortal to see than can ever be seen. More to do than they ever will be able to do, more to find than can ever be found by them. So, because they know their time is limited, the mortal tries to do, see, find, and experience as much as possible. In the limited time they have, they try to live their lives to the full. It's surprising what determined mortals can do with the time allotted to them."

"So, what you're saying is that mortals have a greater incentive to do all they can in their time, while immortals don't have that incentive?" asked Istion, sounding deep in thought.

"Yes," I nodded.

"That's interesting," remarked Celonith.

"Erestor will indeed enjoy having you in his class," laughed Nethril.

"Why do you say that?" I inquired.

"Erestor's greatest flaw is that he has a tendency to overthink abstract concepts to a degree which even the most philosophical of Elves find ludicrous. However, you have the same tendency," she smiled.

"That was **not** overthinking it, that was answering Celonith's question," I defended.

"Nonetheless, he will enjoy having you in his class. Which reminds me, you should have a word with him about that; I'm sure he would appreciate the notice," she stated.

"Ah, but does he need it?" I prodded mischievously.

"Please Elphie; out of courtesy, if nothing else," Nethri added.

"If only for courtesy's sake, then I suppose I shall," I sighed exaggeratedly.

I got up from the chair, tucked it in and scanned the room. Upon finding the busy Elf, I walked over, and tapped him on the shoulder lightly. His head snapped up instantaneously, displaying an impressive reflexive speed.

"Lady Elphaba?"

"Elphaba, if you please, Erestor," I sighed.

"My apologies, Elphaba," he said standing. I frowned, confused by this action.

"No need to stand up, I will keep this brief. I will be joining your class of Elflings tomorrow," I said briskly.

"Why?" he asked.

"I want to learn, is that not obvious enough? Anyway, I just thought you would like some more notice than half a minute." On that note, I strode off, making a beeline for the seats where my friends were. Sitting down, I closed my eyes with a sigh.

"Elphie, please open your eyes," I heard a soft voice request, a few moments later. Disgruntled at my reverie being disturbed, I slowly complied one eye at a time.

"Oh, Elbereth, you frightened me, Elphie," sighed Niphredil, her hand subconsciously going up to her breast.

"Mm? What did I do?" I asked slowly. "Also, who the hell is Elbereth?"

"Elves only close their eyes when they are severely traumatised, or near death, Elphie," Niphredil said gravely. I rolled my eyes.

"Niphredil, I am a former mortal. Mortals close their eyes to sleep," I reminded her. "And again, who is this Elbereth?"

"To put it briefly, she is the maker of the stars. You'll learn more about her tomorrow," said Nethril, overhearing our conversation.

"Ah. Excuse me, please. I have some light reading to do," I pleaded, standing up, and grabbing Mind Games. I headed to the Hall of Fire. I did not want to be late to my music lesson, but I had no way of keeping time, and it was better to be safe than sorry. I sat down cross-legged, my back to one of the halls. I opened the book and cursed very softly.

"Shit," I swore, having discovered that I had forgotten my place. Opening up the book, I flipped through the pages, rapidly scanning them, and finally smiling contentedly as I found the page again. Within moments, a ludicrously large grin was on my face; a few pages later, my shoulders shook with suppressed mirth, until I could no longer hold it in, and I laughed until tears of hilarity sprang to my eyes. Unfortunately, fifteen further pages, I was drawn from the exquisitely witty dialogue, and pulled (figuratively) into the Hall of Fire.

"Lady Elphaba?" asked a voice. I glanced up, before the details of the situation came rushing back to me.

"Oh, Lindir! Sorry, I lost track of time," I said.

"Not a problem, my lady," he chuckled. My eyes narrowed.

"Please do not call me that; my name is Elphaba," I requested.

"Elphaba, then," he corrected himself, offering me a hand to help me up. I accepted, and got to my feet.

"Now then, Elphaba. Which of these instruments would you most like to learn?" he asked. I frowned thoughtfully. My co-ordination in my fingers was not the best, so maybe I should start with the drum? Yes, the drum would do very nicely for the first instrument.

"I think that I would like to lean the drum first," I answered eventually. Lindir raised an eyebrow.

"An unusual choice, for an elleth," he murmured.

"First of all, I'm an unusual person. Second, what is an elleth?" Having to ask all these questions was tiring.

"You certainly are an unusual person, Elphaba. As for the second point, an elleth is a female Elf," Lindir answered smoothly, taking my arm and leading me over to where three drums stood. He selected one, and found a pair of sticks by some miracle, shoving them into my hands.

"Now," he said. "Play me the rhythm of a song from your homeland."

I thought back to all the songs I knew, racking my brains to find the easiest beat. Then, when the answer came, I laughed, shaking my head. It was so obvious.

I stood over the drum.

**_Boom boom boom! _**

**_Boom boom boom! _**

**_Boom boom boom! _**

**_Boom boom boom! _**

Lindir raised an eyebrow. I kept playing for a bit longer, and then I stopped.

"Somehow, I think that rhythm is not meant to be played on a drum," he said carefully. I nodded.

"Quite right. Here's how it was meant to be done," I said. Feet shoulder-width apart, I stamped my left foot, then my right, and clapped my hands all in quick succession, before repeating the sequence.

"Halt!" cried Lindir. I acquiesced. "Tell me, what is the name of that song?"

"It's called 'We Will Rock You'," I answered. His smile widened.

"And does it have any lyrics?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied warily.

"Could you sing it and play the rhythm?" he asked. I rolled my eyes, but I complied.

**_"Boom, boom, clap!_**

**_Boom, boom, clap!_**

**_Boom, boom, clap!_**

**_Boom, boom, clap!_**

**_Buddy, you're a boy,_**

**_Make a big noise,_**

**_Playing in the street,_**

**_Gonna take on the world someday,_**

**_You've got mud on your face,_**

**_You big disgrace,_**

**_Kicking your can all over the place, singing,_**

**_We will, we will, rock you!_**

**_We will, we will, rock you!_**

**_Buddy, you're a young man, _**

**_Hard man,_**

**_Playing in the alley, _**

**_Gonna take on the world someday,_**

**_You've got blood on your face,_**

**_You big disgrace!_**

**_Waving your banner all over the place!_**

**_We will, we will, rock you!_**

**_We will, we will, rock you!_**

**_Buddy, you're an old man,_**

**_Poor man,_**

**_Pleading with your eyes,_**

**_Gonna make you some peace someday,_**

**_You've got mud on your face,_**

**_You big disgrace,_**

**_Somebody better put you back into your place._**

**_We will, we will, rock you!_**

**_We will, we will, rock you!"_**

As soon as I stopped singing, I immediately cut off the rhythm as well. Lindir was looking at me with a peculiar look on his face.

"That was..." he started.

"Was what?" I prodded.

"Was ... somewhat unusual," he said eventually. I shrugged.

"I do believe you asked for it, though," I pointed out. Lindir inclined his head, accepting.

"Very true. Now, I want you to play after me."

And the next hour was spent in much the same fashion. By the end of it, when Lindir said he had better be going, I was very much enthused about the drum playing.

* * *

I sighed as I eventually finished Mind Games, stretching restlessly in the library chair. I was restless, and there was still a few good hours until dinner. I wanted to fly.

_Well, why don't you then?_

I stiffened, all my muscles tensing. _Well, aren't we chatty today, Voice. Long time, no speak_, I thought sarcastically.

_Hello, little Fabala! Did you miss me?_

There is something thoroughly disturbing about an anonymous voice in your head, apart from that of your consciousness, greet you in such a cheerful tone, particularly in reply to a rather sardonic remark.

_But of course, I have, O Anonymous Voice, whom I know virtually nothing about._ I sent this thought back with all the sarcasm I could compress into that single thought.

_That's my girl, Fabala, sarcastic as ever. Now, I do believe you wanted to fly?_

I frowned, in spite of myself.

_Voice ... would that not alarm someone?_ I asked.

_Fabala, how are you going to heal your if you cannot be yourself? So what, if you're labeled a freak, so what if the majority of Elves think you're weird? The three Elf-lords you have currently met are on your side. Besides Fabala... it's not like being different's a bad thing..._

I groaned. _You've got me there, Voice. Fine. Now, since you brought it up, where's the damned broom that I need?_

Silence.

I scowled darkly at the Voice's sudden lack of input. Grumbling, I rose and quickly put it back on the shelf. I strode down to where I thought the kitchen door was, mumbling incoherently under my breath about stupid voices, that place seriously stupid, seriously **irresistible** ideas in people's heads... such as flying for the first time in **ages**.

Eventually, having reached the kitchen door, I paused and knocked on it.

"Knock, knock!" I called, poking my head around the door. I saw Glirwing start at my voice.

"Well, hello Elphie! What can I do for you?" she asked warmly, letting me in.

"Can I borrow a broom?" I asked. Her brow furrowed.

"A broom? Now why in Arda would you want a broom?" she asked.

"I just need one," I said, hoping that she wouldn't press the subject any further. Friend or no, she probably didn't think I could fly on a broom. Glirwing shrugged, and retrieved one.

"All yours," she said. I smiled thankfully at her.

"Thank you, Glirwing." On that note, I backed rapidly out of the kitchen, and strode up to my room, fetching the Grimmerie. With the Grimmerie in my left hand, and the broom in the right, I traced my steps to Niphredil's 'secret garden'. I laid the Grimmerie down on the grass and frantically began searching for the right page, smiling with deep satisfaction. Placing my hands over the broom, I began to chant the spell, the words flowing easily across my tongue. I stood up, and trained my focus on the broom, narrowing my eyes.

"Come," I commanded. It complied obediently, stopping roughly half a metre away from me, hovering.

"Still." I slowly climbed onto the broom, tensing my muscles for the first bucks. I was not disappointed, but I sat all the bucks, and didn't fall off.

"Fly," I commanded softly.

Am I strong? Yes. Am I resilient? Yes.

Did I purr with extremely uncharacteristic delight at the feeling of being in the air? Damn right.

I was getting to an all right height, about forty metres, when something like thunder seemed to explode inside my head.

**_"WHO DARES ENTER MY DOMAIN?"_**

As far as I can recall, the last thing I thought before I black out was: Well, shit.

I say that a lot, don't I?

* * *

**_*Ducks more flying objects* MRS JONES, DO NOT KILL ME! IF YOU DO, THEN THAT MEANS NO MORE UPDATES EVER! *thoughtfully* Unless they have internet access at the pearly gates_**


	7. Valar and Vulgarity

**_Author's note: Yo! I updated! Aren't I good?_**

**_ In this chapter *gasp* there is injury! Yahoo! *coughs* I mean, uh, how terribly, terribly tragic... _**

**_:-D_**

**_Um, if anyone asks why Elphaba does not die, well, in Son of a Witch, Liir survives a much longer fall. Also, our dear Elphaba is an Elf! *does the Nutbush, before calming down* _**

**_But do not fear, she IS injured, thereby escaping the Sue-phenomenon of falling from great heights with not a scratch; mind, I have lowered the height she falls from. Sorry!_**

**_STYLE CHANGE #1: I have recently been reading Xed Alpha's Broken Bow series, which I like very much. In it, there is a first person narrator, and that is indicated by the following symbol: -A- _**

**_, due to the first initial of the protagonist being A._**

**_There is also another narrator, a third person narrator; this is indicated by the following: -3-_**

**_This technique is astonishingly easy to use, and I am going to do so... So, -E-, means Elphaba's POV, and, -3-, means that it is third person._**

**_STYLE CHANGE #2: Italics will be used only to indicate internal discussions (PM or email me if you have any questions), and for emphasis. No more will they be used to indicate thoughts!_**

**_NOTE: Corechil is actually Corephedil. Embarrassingly enough, I used the feminine form in the second chapter. So, here it is, corrected!_**

-E-

I do not know what exactly occurred to my body when I blacked out, for the disturbing reason that I was having what you might call an "out of body experience"; to put it in more plain terms, my body was falling, crashing at an highly alarming pace, while my consciousness was being summoned to be interrogated by a group of deities.**_ Don't you just freaking love my life!_**

Perhaps 'blacked out' is not the best term. In essence, the booming voice in my head was too much for my system to handle, and the nervous centre of my brain sent a letter to all my muscles, saying: _SHUT DOWN NOW!_

Meanwhile, my consciousness, as I said before, was being summoned to appear before a group of deities for an inquisition; joy of joys.

I looked wildly around at my surroundings, and saw fourteen tall beings on thrones arranged in a semicircle. My eyes looked down at myself, and I saw nothing except myself in a shadowy spectre-like form. True to form, the first thing I said, in the flattest, deadliest tone I could muster: _"Where the fuck am I?"_

The females tittered at my nautical language, while most of the males looked disapproving.

"You dare to speak to the Valar in such an insolent manner, little one?" asked the tallest male. He had pitch black hair, and his throne had eagles carved on it.

"I have no damned clue who the Valar are, therefore, it does not bother me if I am insolent to them," I said, in the same tone that I used before.

In hindsight, this was extremely unwise; wait, no, I tell a lie! The first remark was unwise; the second one was first class lunacy. Two of the males looked ready to spring at me, but they managed to control themselves.

"Little one, I would advise you to tone your aggression down. I understand you are frustrated, but try to be patient," soothed a gentle, sad voice. I pivoted to face its owner.

"And whom, pray tell, are you?" I challenged.

"I am Nienna, Lady of Mercy."

I turned to the woman next to her.

"You?"

"I am Vairë the Weaver."

"And you?"

"I am Estë the Gentle."

"I am Nessa the Fleet, the Dancer."

"I am Vàna, the forever young."

"I am Yavanna, Giver of Fruits."

"I am Varda, Queen of the Heavens and creator of the stars."

"You did a good job on those," I said. She smiled a bit wider. I turned to the males.

"If you would be so kind as to introduce yourselves?"

"I am Manwë, Lord of the Wind. I am Varda's husband."

"I am Aulë, the creator of the Dwarves and Lord of the Forge. Yavanna's husband."

"I am Oromë, the Hunter. Vàna is my wife."

"Tulkas, greatest in strength. I laugh when I am enraged and I am the husband of Nessa."

"Irmo Lorien, Lord of Dreams, brother of Nàmo and Nienna, and husband of Estë. I've met you before."

"Nàmo Mandos, Lord of the dead, and of fate. Irmo and I are the spirit lords."

"Ülmo, god of waters."

"Now, my dear, who are you, is the question."

"I am Elphaba," I answered curtly.

"Elphaba who?"

"Elphaba Thropp." Curt and brief.

"Where do you hail from?"

"I hail from the land of Oz."

Silence. You know the phrase, 'one could hear a pin drop?' In that silence one could have heard a pin that was a tenth of regular size.

"The Tunnels ... impossible!" whispered Aulë at last. I smiled cynically.

"If there is one thing in my life that I have learned, it is that nothing is impossible. If things were, then life would be so much more simple."

"Are you skilled in magic?" asked Varda. I inclined my head a fraction.

"I have some paranormal powers; I am a skilled sorceress, and I sometimes have an abnormal amount of direct influence on my surroundings, often dependent upon my emotions. I can also fly a broom," I added.

"Through a spell?" asked Irmo.

"Fly a broom through a spell, yes," I confirmed. "The influence part is just ... intuition, I guess."

"Ah. My apologies, young one. I am not accustomed to not recognising those in my domain, the sky. Normally, the only things there are the birds ... and the occasional dragon," said Manwë.

I snarled. "You'd better not have killed me!"

"I do not think so. You are made of quite stern stuff. I release you now. Go, little one."

"Wait!" I shouted.

Manwë raised a black eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Please, keep this quiet." The Vala nodded, and I was released from the divine interrogation session.

* * *

-E-

When I was conscious again, I noticed several things.

I was not dead. This was quite good.

I was not being questioned by a group of deities. This was good.

I was on the ground. Not as good.

I was in excruciating, exquisite pain. This was very, very BAD.

I did the natural thing. I screamed; truth be told, I screamed so loud I'm sure that I damaged someone's hearing.

_Assess the damage, assess the damage. Shut **up,** assess the damage._

The Voice screamed at me to do something. Gritting my teeth, I fired back with:

_Sorry, Voice. Just two things. YOU led me into this mess ..._

_A mess you __had__ to get into,_ refuted the Voice.

_Subsequently, I feel like a fucking mountain is sitting on me_, I finished.

I closed my eyes, and tried to focus.

"Okay. Let's talk this through, shall we? First, what happened? I blacked out while flying, had an out of body experience, and I seem to have had a nasty fall. Great. Uh, what time is it? Maybe Nethril ... has a search party..."

I was exhausted, and even though I knew I shouldn't, I really needed to sleep. I tried to focus my eyes, see what colour the sky was, but my vision was blurry. So blurry that everything just seemed like a swirl of crazy colours. My eyelids grew heavier and heavier until I couldn't keep them open any longer. Just a few minutes rest.

-3-

Nethril's eyes darted rapidly around the room, after dinner, looking for a certain green-skinned Elf. Istion, Celonith and Glirwing stood beside her.

"Where in the name of _Ëarendil_ is that girl?" she hissed.

"I saw her earlier this afternoon," remarked Glirwing.

"When?" asked Nethril.

"About ... mid afternoon. She wanted to borrow a broom," Glirwing shrugged, her brow furrowed. Nethril's expression soon transformed to one of horror.

"And you let her?" Nethril said incredulously. Glirwing held her hands up in bewilderment.

"It was a broom! What harm can it do?" she asked.

Nethril groaned. "Glir... Elphie can _fly_ brooms."

Glirwing's jaw dropped. Then the magnitude of what had happened dawned fully on her.

"Oh, Valar, no..." she whispered.

"Oh, Valar, yes," said Niphredil, walking up to them. She handed the object in her right hand to Nethril. "Is that Elphie's?" she asked.

Nethril's jaw tightened.

"Yes," she ground out. "That's it. Glirwing, you tell Lord Elrond that Elphaba's missing. Istion, will your patrol mind looking for her? Oh, to Ûdun with whether they want to or not, they're going. Celonith, Niphredil, when Glirwing gets back, we are going to search the city. The gardens, library and Elphie's room have been ruled out."

The other Elves nodded, businesslike and set about their duties.

...

_By Elbereth, was Elphaba going to be in for it..._

_

* * *

_

Istion wove through the mass of Elves, spotting his patrol. They were a particularly tight-knit bunch, and could be found together most nights.

"Mithlach! Gellfuin! Saeros! Sítheron! Tinnuast! Ringris! Corechil! Angolant!" he shouted, striding up to them.

"Istion," Mithlach nodded. "What brings you here?"

"There's a problem. Lady Elphaba has gone missing."

Worry and horror flashed across the ellyn's faces. Gellfuin squeezed Istion's shoulder.

"Understood. Ellyn, I want you to grab light rations from the kitchens, and mount your horses. Thank Manwë that it's full moon tonight." The patrol members nodded and as one, they turned on their heels and sprinted to the kitchens, and then to the stables.

* * *

Nethril and her friends ran out onto the streets and slowed down. Their plan was simple: knock on the doors of as many Elves as possible, and inquire if they had possibly seen a green Elf on a broomstick at any point during the afternoon.

Unfortunately, fifty-seven doors later, the ellyth had to admit that their plan was not working.

"But we have to do something!" cried Nethril, pacing. She had tears in her eyes that she was stubbornly refusing to let fall. Celonith sighed.

"Nethril ... we aren't doing anything to help her here. I think that we should go to the Infirmary and prepare a bed for Elphie in case anything has happened."

Nethril looked devastated, but Niphredil backed Celonith up.

"Celonith's right, Nethril. Come on."

Brokenly, Nethril allowed her friends to lead her back up to the palace. When they arrived at the Healing Rooms, Nethril slipped to Elphie's room and got some of her books. Niphredil made the bed, and Glirwing made sure that the cupboards were well stocked with all medical supplies. All jobs being done, the ellyth huddled together on one of the beds, drawing strength.

* * *

Elrond and Erestor cantered until they came to the edge of the woods, and dismounted before signalling their mounts to stay there, until called for. Erestor glanced at his liege lord.

"This almost seems like old times, eh, Elrond?" he said. Elrond smiled grimly.

"It does a bit, at that," he called back. The two Elves ran silently through the undergrowth, their lightly clad feet leaving virtually imperceptible prints.

Finally, after a while, they heard a scream of pain. The two Elves exchanged fearful looks and they shot forward towards the sound, making their previous pace seem like they were standing still.

"By the Valar!" gasped Elrond. Erestor nodded wordlessly. Elphaba lay on the ground with a head wound, bruising and minor scratches on her face, several more minor cuts on her torso, quite a few shallow gashes on her arms, and her left arm was clearly broken.

Elrond quickly tore a large strip off his tunic sleeve and wrapped it roughly around the head wound.

"We must get her back to Imladris," said the lord firmly.

"Elrond ... how do we move her without hurting her?" asked Erestor.

"Thankfully, she's unconscious, so she will not register any pain. Erestor, could you find Istion's patrol, so the poor Elves don't spend the night in the woods?" asked Elrond.

Erestor nodded, and then helped his lord carry the elleth to where the horses were waiting.

"Good luck, Elrond," said Erestor quietly, before he leapt onto his horse and rode away.

The Lord of Imladris lifted the elleth onto the horse, and quickly swung on after her, blessing the centuries of practice that made it feasible. A quick nudge in the belly, and the horse was easily bounding away.

The ellyth automatically stepped back, none of them having any real healing practice, when the Infirmary door burst open to admit several healers and the Lord of Imladris carrying Elphaba on a litter. Nethril gasped; her friend looked terrible. The usually softly glowing skin, looked dull and pasty. Her lip was cut in several places, her face was practically purple, her head was bleeding, and there were a couple of long cuts on each arm.

"Will she be all right?" she asked Glirwing.

"Probably," the other elleth responded. "Nethril... I'm sorry. I should have known."

Nethril smiled sadly. "It wasn't your fault. You just didn't know."

Elrond calmed himself. He ordered an assistant to fetch necessary herbs; athelas, marigold, horsetail, salves and of course, bandages. He addressed the head wound first, quickly staunching the blood flow, before he bathed it and dressed it. He dressed the gashes on her arms with light bandages before ordering another assistant to apply pressure to the cuts on her lip. He turned to the healers.

"She probably has broken a few ribs, and her organs may be at risk of rupture. Also, you need to put that left arm of hers in a sling. Send for me if there are any complications, but I think you know what to do," he said quickly, before exiting the infirmary.

Quickly, the healers stripped Elphaba of her garments, and there were some audible gasps. Two ribs were indeed broken, there were some more cuts still on her body and her abdomen looked like a midnight sky; not a great indicator if it's usually the colour of grass. One of the healers gently put Elphaba's shoulder into a sling, and the others took advantage of her unconsciousness to set her ribs. Elphaba whimpered in pain, and tried to toss in her sleep. Very softly, Nethril began to sing the Animal Song, lulling Elphaba to back to sleep. For good measure, one of the healers gave Elphaba a soporific.

Only one task remained for the female healers: to get the injured elleth's friends reassured and to their beds. This task proved a good deal more difficult than they had anticipated.

"No! I am not leaving Elphie!" Nethril insisted stubbornly. The healers tried everything, from beseeching to threatening to flatly ordering her to rest, but to no avail.

"Nethril, do you want me to sit with you?" Niphredil asked. Nethril nodded.

"I will sit too," said Glirwing quietly. The distraught elleth nodded again. Her friends guided her to the chairs in the corner, and they sat in tense silence, until the first rays of light began to light the sky.

"Nethril, Niphredil and I have to go," Glirwing said gently. Nethril seemed to not register the words, or indeed the fact that she had been spoken too. Glirwing tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hmm? Oh, Glirwing, it is you. What is wrong?"

"Niphredil and I have to do our jobs today, remember?" she prodded her friend gently. Nethril blinked, then shook her head, coming back to the present.

"Oh ... of course. Sorry, Glirwing, I am feeling a bit detached today," she answered apologetically. The other ellyth smiled gently.

"Understandable; if an Elf who I held as dear as a sibling was hurt, I would be in much the same state. We will come back at around noon, all right Nethril?" Niphredil said softly. Nethril nodded, a shadow of a smile tugging at her mouth.

-E-

"Ugh ... oh, hellgates, what did I do now?" were the first words that leapt out of my mouth when I came to.

"ELPHIE!" shrieked a voice, painfully shrill in my ears. I forced my eyes open, one at a time.

"Nethril, is that you?" I asked groggily.

"Yes, you silly Elf," she answered. To my relief, her pitch was not at a perilously high pitch.

"Oh, good. Can you tell me why I feel like shit?" I asked, my tone inquisitive.

"Apparently you had a fall. A very big fall, as it happens. Now, I need you to do something for me."

"Like?"

"Tell me what happened," Nethril responded, her voice steely. I blinked.

"Will you be furious with me?" I asked, cautious; I didn't like making people mad as a rule.

"No-oooo," she answered slowly.

I took a deep breath and I managed to gabble the entire affair excluding the little argument with the intuition-Voice in my head, and the divine interrogation session.

I could make out an expression of pure befuddlement on Nethril's face.

"Breathe, Elphie," she instructed. I complied, and then repeated the step until I had got my lungs under control.

"Now, would you mind repeating what you said?" she asked. I swallowed, but nodded bravely.

"All right. I had finished one of the books I got from the library, and I really wanted to fly. So, I went down to the kitchens, borrowed a broom, and I enchanted it in one of the gardens. I was at, maybe, thirty-five feet, and then I sort of ... blacked out," I finished, omitting the divine interrogation affair, now unsure of my sanity.

Nethril raised an eyebrow.

"You are hiding something," she said flatly. It was not an inference or a guess: it was a statement of fact.

"Am I?" I asked, mirroring her facial expression.

"Yes, you are," she answered.

"Hmm. What if I am?"

"Why do you want to hide it?"

"Let _me_ ask _you_: Why do _you_ want to know?" I dodged.

"Is it not obvious? I am concerned, Elphie; you are carried in here on a litter late at night, with your body injured quite grievously. You have had years of practise flying a broom; it is highly unlikely that you would just fall of like a novice!" she reasoned.

I smiled bitterly.

"How shrewd. Very well, I will tell you the whole truth, but you should possibly fetch Lord Elrond. What I have to say may concern him," I answered.

How fitting, I mused as Nethril exited the room. How ironic that, when a witch has no friends, she is fully ostracised by society; yet, when she does, it is those who do not ostracise her are her downfall. Yes, how fitting.

However, as I would later find out, things worked differently in Middle-Earth: Very differently indeed.

I was snapped out of my musings when Nethril, accompanied by the Lords Elrond and Erestor, entered the room.

"Elphie?" she inquired softly, as she moved to sit in one of the chairs.

"Yes, Nethril. Lord Elrond, Lord Erestor," I greeted, half-sitting as best as I could.

"Lady Elphaba. Do you wish to talk about yesterday's events?" asked Elrond. A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

"It is more like Nethril wishes to learn the events of yesterday, but that is a small matter. My lords, you do realise that I can fly?"

Elrond's eyes widened inordinately, while Erestor crossed his arms and raised a single eyebrow. I frowned.

"What, you eavesdropped on my recounting my life story, which included learning how to fly, and you did not register this?" I asked incredulously. Elrond coughed slightly.

"Lady Elphaba, I do apologise. I ... I did not ... I must confess, I did not believe you. I am not sure if I believe you now," he answered slowly.

My eyes narrowed swiftly. "You thought I was _lying_?" I asked, my tone seething with fury. I had never lied for my own ends, only for the safety and protection of others. When I was forced to, I omitted parts of the truth or evaded questions.

"How could we know you were not, Lady Elphaba? You are a newcomer here, therefore, we do not know whether you are a habitual liar or not." answered Erestor shrewdly. I flushed.

"Well, you couldn't ... but I do still resent the notion. I have never lied for my own gains, and I do not intend to begin to do so," I snapped. "Anyway, I can fly, with the aid of a broom that I have enchanted. Yesterday, as I was just about to rise above the tree-line, I heard someone speak in my head. The voice said, "Who enters my domain?", and I'm not entirely sure what exactly happened next, but I shall explain it as best as I can. My mind, my conscious being, that was summoned. After the voice, the next thing I knew was that I was in a large room. There were fourteen beings there. They asked me who I was; when I asked them who they were, they said they were the Balar. Wait, that's not right ... the Valar? Yes, that was it," I clicked the fingers of my right hand in triumph.

Then I saw the expressions on the other's faces.

"Is something wrong?" I asked eventually.

"Elphaba. Do you know who the Valar are?" Nethril asked.

"No, but I have a feeling you are going to tell me," I retorted.

"Of course. Very well; to put it plainly, the Valar are the powers of this world, the powerful spirits."

I listened with near pseudo-serenity, processing the information.

"So, correct me if I am wrong ... you are saying that I have been interrogated by the powers of this world who have godlike powers?" I asked. Nethril nodded emphatically. "Well, some things never change, do they?" I mused under my breath.

"'Some things never change?' Lady Elphaba, do you mean to say that similar events occurred in Oz?" asked Lord Elrond, startled. Erestor remained silent, but his eyes practically blazed with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

I sighed, my patience just beginning to fray a tad. "Look, this isn't the craziest thing I've been involved in."

There is only one word that could describe their expressions: Priceless.


	8. Tests and Tedium

_Yo! I am back in my one-woman fandom! Aren't there any other people who want to do a LotRxWicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West crossover?_

_This chapter, I'm not going to ask you to review, I'll leave that up to you._

_Setting Revision, again: T.A. 2329 - 102 years before Aragorn's birth_

_Now, embroidery does feature in this chapter. I don't like it and I'm not trying to encourage sexism. This idea sprang from a conversation with my mum, about the image drinking certain drinks project. For instance, according to mum, my sister cannot drink bourbon in public, because it's a "Masculine" drink, and "Ladies drink wine". Psh. But, all hail my mother, Kitsune Heart, and also the band Forever the Sickest Kids, for their wonderful song, "She's a Lady", and in particular, the beautiful line, "She's a Lady and ladies shouldn't be messed with"._

_Story time! On with the show!_

**_

* * *

_**

_-E-_

"When can I get out of bed?" I asked Elrond, after I had finished my little fit of giggling at their expressions. His expression turned grave.

"Three weeks would be my estimate, assuming nothing goes wrong," he said seriously.

"Three weeks?" I cried. "You must be jesting!"

"Three weeks, and not a moment less," he emphasised.

"My injuries can't be that bad, surely?" I pleaded.

"Lady Elphaba. Clearly, you do not know what price yesterday's recklessness has exacted you; you have broken an arm, broken several of your ribs, acquired quite a few cuts and gashes, and your body is bleeding internally!" Lord Elrond snapped. I blinked a few times.

"The fall was _that_ bad, eh?" I asked nonchalantly. Elrond rubbed his brow wearily.

"Lord Erestor, what about lessons?" I asked, truly concerned on this aspect.

"What about them?" Erestor asked, one brow rising.

"Can I still do lessons?" I clarified.

"No!" answered the two males in unison. I bit my lip.

"Why not?" I asked, a few moments later.

"Lady Elphaba, you will need to concentrate your energy on body is not fit to processing great deals of information and healing simultaneously," Lord Elrond explained.

"Don't call me Lady!" I snapped, somewhat petulantly.

"We will not if you do not address us as Lord Erestor and Lord Elrond," retorted Erestor.

"Your titles are justified, mine is not. You are of noble birth, and Lord Elrond, you are the ruler of this realm. I, however, am not in any way, a lady," I shot back.

Silence, for a moment.

"Congratulations, Elphie; you have been the first to succeed in that endeavour in a long time," Nethril spoke at last.

"What endeavour might that be?" I asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Shocking both Lord Elrond and Lord Erestor into silence in one go," she answered mischievously.

"Very well, then, Elphaba. Nethril will stay by your side, and fetch you anything you need. If there is nothing else you require, Elphaba, then I believe Erestor and I have some other matters to attend to," Elrond spoke at last.

"Thank you, Elrond, Erestor, but I believe the realm requires your attention again. Good day." I spoke softly.

"Good day, Elphaba," Erestor answered, Elrond nodding his own farewell, before exiting. I looked at Nethril.

"Would you mind getting the books from my room, Nethril?" I asked softly. She smiled.

"Certainly, Elphie. But stay here; on no account are you to get up," she commanded. I cocked my head.

"What if the room's on fire?" I asked.

"Then scream!" she answered, already striding out of the door.

_Impressive amount of injuries, Fabala, no?_

I yelped in surprise, the sudden remark taking me aback.

"Shit!" I swore under my breath in Qu'aati, the words flowing over my tongue.

_Ah, so you remember __that__ word at least. However I had hoped that your retained vocabulary extended beyond a single expletive. Ah, well, only one way to find out,_ the Voice said brightly.

_What way? And why did I just swear in a different language? _I thought, suddenly very nervous.

_Relax, and let Selene do the work_, the Voice - no, Selene - soothed.

"This cannot be good," I murmured, before doing a double-take. " Hellgates! Why am I speaking in Qu'aati?" I asked.

_That would be my doing, Fabala. You see, while you __do__ have a new life here, you __must__ remember your past_, Selene said gently.

_My past is an __extremely unpleasant__ matter, Selene, and I am seriously tired of being __screwed__ by fate,_ I shot back.

_Don't be so __dense__, Fabala; of __course__ it's extremely unpleasant. You know the vernacular: What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Fabala, you have lived through an enormous load highly unpleasant experiences, therefore, you are an extremely strong person,_ Selene refuted sharply.

_Is that so? Pardon me for my naïvety, __but__ what does my ability to speak Qu'aati have to do with my past?_ I inquired, a nanosecond before the all save on of the puzzle pieces fell into place.

"Oh, you have got to be shitting me!" I cried.

_I think you will find I infrequently __shit__ you,_ Selene responded pedantically.

"Elphie? Are you all right?" Nethril asked.

_Good luck with this one, Fabala,_ Selene added. I could've sworn she smirked as she said that.

"I can't stop speaking in Qu'aati!" I said. Unfortunately, this was also spoken in Qu'aati, thus proving the statement true.

"Elphie? Are you all right?" Nethril repeated, slightly more slowly. I shook my head emphatically.

"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously, setting down the large pile of books. I shook my head, frustration surging through me.

"Nothing is wrong?" she asked, trying to read my body language. I shook my head with even more vehemence.

"You cannot tell me what is wrong?" she guessed. I nodded.

"Why not?" she asked, one eyebrow rising. I threw my hands up in the classic "I don't know, why the hell should I?" pose.

"You have no idea why not?" she tried. I nodded hugely. She winced, and considered the statement for a moment before she brightened.

"Wait here, Elphie. I am going to get you parchment, quill and ink, so you can write what you want to say, all right?"

She did not wait for my answer before she shot out the door.

_Selene. You are aware that this is not amusing?_ I asked. I was beyond doubting my sanity - I was a realist, yes, but I had the chronic misfortune of living in an extremely surreal world. If someone were to call me insane, I would reply, "Insane is not strong enough." But I am digressing.

_Really, Fabala? I think it is somewhat entertaining, myself..._

_Sadist, _I hissed.

_No; just a sadistic friend. A sadistic friend who loves you more than anyone else ever has or does, _Selene murmured.

_I insulted you, I didn't ask you to murmur love words in my ear_, I shot back, keeping an eye on the door. I smiled as Nethril entered the room.

"Now, Elphie, I am going to write down some questions, and you are going to answer them. Clear?" Nethril asked. "Nod once if you understand," she added. I nodded.

Nethril knelt beside the bedside table and she wrote out her first question. I studied her handwriting; it was elegant, flowing and graceful. She held the paper up, and I read the question silently.

It should be fairly obvious whose lines are whose.

_**What is the problem?**_

**_ For some stupid, stupid reason, I cannot stop speaking one of the languages I learned in Oz._**

**_Any ideas why?_**

_**Very little. I just have one, utterly preposterous theory: it involves my instinct/gut/intuition becoming a **__**lot**__** more articulate, and I think it's all tied up with my becoming an Elf upon arrival. **_

**_Do you think that you will need to keep communicating through quill and ink?_**

**_Probably. Any more questions? No?_****_ Pass me Mesmerised._**

Nethril passed me the book, and settling back on the pillows, I opened it up and started reading. Nethril stared off into space. Eventually, her head banged against the surface of the table once. I looked over, yawning, and rapped a quick beat out on the bedside table. Her head snapped up, and she looked around confusedly for a few moments. I realised she had been asleep. I tapped her on the shoulder and grabbed the parchment.

**_How much sleep did you get last night?_**

_**Not a lot, I confess.**_

_**Four hours?**_

_**Less.**_

_**Three?**_

_**Less.**_

_**Two?**_

_**Less.**_

_**One?**_

_**Less.**_

_**ZERO?**_

_**Yes... why?**_

_**Nethril, do you have any idea how fucking **__**bad**__** for your body staying up all night is?**_

_**Relax, Elphie, Elves need much less rest than mortals.**_

_**Yeah, right. Look, I want you to go to bed for at least **__**two hours**__** and take a nap. I couldn't give a shit about how you need a small amount of sleep, you still freaking need it. Two hours, at **__**LEAST.**__** Savvy?**_

_**No. What is a nap, and what does 'savvy' mean?**_

_**Oh, sweet Jackal Moon ... a nap is a short rest. In this particular context, 'savvy' means "Do you understand?".**_

_**What will you be doing?**_

_**Reading. I'm proud and reckless, Nethril, but I'm not **__**stupid**__** enough to try and get out of bed in **__**this**__** condition. **_

_**Remember, under no circumstances are you to leave the room. Savvy?**_

_**Savvy. Now, GO!**_

-3-

Nethril saw one of the healers as she walked out, and called him.

"Pardon me, but I was hoping that you could spare a moment," she said solemnly.

"Of course, what is the matter?" the ellon asked, concerned.

"Lady Elphaba, who came in last night. I think that she may or may not need a soporific, to ensure that she sleeps. Knowing her, she will probably try to do some complicated arithmetic or anagrams or riddles. If you could just check on her from time to time, I would be grateful," Nethril explained. The ellon frowned slightly.

"Pardon me for asking, but why are you leaving when you are so concerned about her?" he asked.

"Lady Elphaba found out that I was sitting vigil with her last night, and ordered me to get some sleep," she answered.

"Ah. Do not fear, I will check on her," the healer answered. "However, the lady is right in that you should go and rest; even though the Eldar do not need as much sleep as mortals, it is good to get some slumber," he added. Nethril rolled her eyes.

"Yes, all right, all right," she muttered, turning on her heel and walking off.

The healer turned back to his medicines, musing on the events of the past day.

-E-

The next two weeks passed in a blur. The days were filled with books, visits from my friends, check-ups from the healers, and a visit once a day from the three Elf-lords Erestor, Elrond and Glorfindel. I grew to like the three lords much more, during that time; Elrond was solemn and serious, but was kind, friendly and had a keen sense of humour that was seldom seen. Erestor and Glorfindel were both very humorous when they wished, and kept me in fits of laughter when they visited.

However, the night was filled with flashbacks, and nightmares of my past life. I will not tell you what I was seeing, for such stories should not be told, or recorded. Suffice to say that, thankfully, none of them were as bad as the one I had about Kiamo Ko.

However, it was on the first day of the third week, (I had been counting _very_ closely), that I heard from Selene again.

W_ell done, Fabala. You have remembered well; you have passed the test. You may talk freely now_, she murmured.

My brows shot up in confusion. _What, do you mean I can speak the Common Tongue again?_ I asked.

_Yep. I hope you enjoy it - there are more tests to come. Luckily, for you, these won't involve speaking in any Ozian languages._

_FINALLY!_ I yelled in my head.

"Can I really talk in this language again?" I tested. My eyes widened. The words were stilted, halting, but they were clear. "Well," I mused. "This will make visits easier," I smiled.

That night, I ceased to have any nightmares. It appeared my remembering was done.

The last week passed in a pattern that was easygoing enough. On the last morning, Elrond nodded after examining me, his eyes narrowed at me.

"Elphaba. You are now fit to get up, eat, sleep, dress with your maid's aid, and attend your music lessons. Tomorrow, you may begin your lessons with Lord Erestor. However, you are not permitted to fly for three days, and when you are allowed you may not leave the valley. Am I perfectly clear?" he asked, his tone firm.

"Utterly clear, my lord. Now, can I please go to my rooms?" I asked, pleading. I had not realised how much basic freedoms meant to me.

"Yes, you may," he answered, exiting the room.

Nethril looked at me.

"Well, that was annoying," I huffed, standing up. "Come on, let's go," I said. Nethril smiled slightly, and she guided me back to my room.

"I ordered some additional clothing from the seamstresses for you," she said brightly as we set my pile of books on the desk.

"Oh, this will be good," I said, opening the wardrobe.

"I ordered some tunics and a few pairs of leggings," Nethril said, looking at me.

"You did ... why?" I asked, confused.

"So you can fly. Isn't it uncomfortable in a dress?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

"Mm, yes, that's true. What else did you do?" I asked her.

"Well, I ordered some formal gowns for you," she mumbled, suddenly nervous.

"Oh, did you now? In what colours?" I pressed.

"Grey, silver, dark blues. No black, I am afraid but they are very simple and elegant. There's not even a single frill on them," she said.

"No black? Pity. Still, at least you picked the right colours, and style." I replied. "Hey, why did Elrond refer to you as my maid?" I asked.

"I requested to become your sole maid, Elphie. After all, someone has to keep an eye out for you, particularly when your activities are constrained," she remarked. "Do you want to put something else on, rather than that gown?" she asked, referring to the smock I wore.

"Yes, please," I said, nodding. Nethril smiled.

"First of all, you have some clean undergarments. Then, you have the chemise, which you put on. Then, you put the underdress on over that. Finally, you can put on the dress," she said, pointing out the garments one by one.

"Can you help me with them?" I requested, turning my back and slipping off my smock.

"Of course, Elphie; after all, we do not want you overexerting yourself, do we?" she asked, helping me put the garments on.

"Of course not," I grunted, after Nethril had pulled the dress down over my shoulders. "What can I do now?" I asked. Nethril grinned evilly, and pulled two things from behind her back.

"Oh, you're _shitting_ me!" I cried.

Nethril shook her head. "I shit you not," she said solemnly. "Embroidery. Elphie, if you do not learn, then you are going to be very vulnerable socially," she added.

"Do I give a damn about whether I'm socially vulnerable?" I asked. "I have you, Glirwing, Celonith, Istion, Niphredil, not to mention the ruler, the battle master and the Seneschal of the realm on my side!"

"The less ammunition the people who will try to hurt you have, the better. If you can do embroidery, then it's very good."

"But it's so ... _ladylike_," I forced out, shuddering.

"Elphie, you're forgetting something. Ladies are terrifying, vicious creatures when they want to be. You were telling me about a song a few days ago. I believe part of it went, 'She is a lady, and ladies should not be provoked,'" Nethril said.

I considered this. "True. So ... you're urging me to erect a façade in certain situations which may or may not arise, of being ladylike."

"It is a lot harder for people to find fault with you for style and grace," she said pointedly.

"Don't I have style?" I asked.

"It can be improved, and what's more, it will be; the same goes for your grace. Starting now. Embroidery."

Eventually, I managed to thread the needle and begin the torture that was called embroidery.

"See, it's not so bad," Nethril said cheerily. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"You can say that," I said. I slowly began to try stitch out a single 'E'.

Hours later, the lunch bell rang and I leapt up at it's sound.

"Come on Nethri!" I yelled, all ready at the door.

"I am coming!" she answered. We made our way down to the hall and when we neared the table near our friends, I got all the wind squeezed out of me.

"You're up!" Glirwing cried, beaming.

"Yep, I'm up. Come on, don't I get another hug?" I asked eventually, widening my eyes pleadingly. Niphredil and Celonith both surged forward and squeezed the air out of me.

"Breath ... nice. Needed, even," I gasped out.

"Oh, sorry, Elphie," they laughed, releasing me.

I smiled; it was good to be back.

* * *

The next day, I was woken up by Nethril, as she whistled cheerfully.

"Come on, Elphie! Rise and shine! I've got breakfast here for you," she greeted cheerfully. I shook my head to clear it, sitting up in the bed.

"Breakfast?" I questioned wearily.

"Exactly," she said, setting it on my lap. I pulled it up closer to my mouth, and began to eat it, while Nethril bustled around the room.

"All right then. Are you done?" she asked, just as I had shoved the last mouthful in. I held up a finger, asking silently for her to give me a moment.

"Now I am," I said.

"All right, I want you to go in, have a bath and get dressed. The water's in the tub," she said. Grumbling, I complied, finding the bath quite enjoyable. I walked out, washed and dried, and Nethril smiled approvingly as she helped me into my clothes.

"Now," she commanded. "Sit down, and let me do your hair."

I meekly complied, letting Nethril handle my appearance for a change.

"Do you want it done in any particular style?" she asked.

I considered for a moment, before I came to a decision.

"A simple braid will do nicely," I said.

Nethril frowned.

"What do you mean, Elphie?" she asked.

"So, one braid that ties up all my hair," I explained.

"But what should I tie it with?"

"Do you have any ribbon?"

"Oh."

Swiftly, she combed my hair back, and put it into a braid with incredible ease. I smiled approvingly in the looking-glass.

"I feel like a schoolgirl again, off to class. Shall we go now, Nethril?" I asked.

"If you're sure about this, Elphie," she said gently.

"Of course; I am an Elf now, if I do not learn to speak my language, it will certainly be very peculiar," I answered.

"All right," she said. "Valar be with you today," she breathed, beginning to guide me through the corridors.

"Actually, I'd prefer it if they weren't," I joked.

Soon, we arrived at the classroom. I breathed a sigh of relief, internally. No-one was there.

"We're early?" I asked.

"Yes, you are. Not a lot, just a few minutes. You can go in," she said gently. I smiled. I entered the classroom, and I selected a seat that was near the front, at the far right in the room. I sat in the chair, and looked at the desk. The desk was smaller than I would've like, and I had to stretch my legs to sit comfortably. There was an inkwell built into the desk, and there was a feather at it's head. I grinned.

"Definitely reminiscent of Shiz," I mused.

A few minutes later, a group of four Elflings about the same age came into the room. I watched them intently as they took their seats, not appearing to sit in any order. They chatted amongst themselves, and teased each other. They didn't seem to notice me, and I was quite happy with that.

Erestor soon walked into the classroom. The Elflings all stood, and I mimicked their actions.

"Good morning, class," he said cheerfully.

"Good morning, Lord Erestor," the class replied in unison.

"Please, sit down," he said, easily. He scanned the classroom, calling out a list of names, and just managing to miss me.

"Lethril!"

"Here!"

"Dínfaron!"

"Present!"

"Glauril!"

"Here!

"Ithilach!"

"Here!"

"Have I missed anyone?" Erestor asked. I scowled. There went secrecy. I stood up, schooling my expression.

"Yes," I said. Erestor's eyes snapped to me. I stepped out of the shadowy corner. "You missed me," I clarified.

"Oh. Right, yes, of course. How could I forget? Class, this is Lady Elphaba, a newcomer to Imladris," he said.

Thus introduced, I sat back down again before anyone could ask awkward questions such as, "Who are you?" and "Why is your skin green?".

"All right, class. Today, you will be working on your Common Tongue. The book that you need is in the draw to your left. If you have any questions, ask me. Are we all clear?" the Elflings nodded.

"Good. Now, let's get to work!"

The Elflings started chattering amongst themselves in Elvish, occasionally glancing in my direction. Erestor dragged a desk over, closer to mine, and sat down.

"All right, Elphaba. First of all, I am going to just say a few words in Elvish, and I want you to repeat them after me, all right?"

I nodded, and we began.

We were released an hour later for ten minutes' break.

"Hannon le, Erestor!" I shouted, using one of the newly learned phrases as I walked out the door with the other Elflings. "Where do you sit at break?" I asked them. They smiled widely.

"Follow us, Lady Elphaba," they said simply. One of them took my hand and they led me to a garden.

"We always sit here, for break," one of the Elflings explained.

"What are your names?" I inquired.

"I am Ithilach," said an Elfling, pointing her thumb to her sternum.

"I am Glauril," another said.

"Dínfaron."

"Lethril."

I nodded.

"Well, I'm Elphaba," I said quietly.

"If you do not mind me asking, Lady Elphaba..."

"Why is my skin green?" I finished with a laugh.

"Yes."

"I do not know, I was just born like that," I shrugged.

"Why do you need to learn Elvish?" another asked.

"Because I do not know it," I answered.

"Fair enough. How long have you lived here in Imladris?" Dínfaron asked.

"Not long. Three weeks and a few days."

"Why haven't you come to class before?" asked Lethril.

"Well, I've spent the past three weeks in the Infirmary," I said with a wry grin.

"Three weeks? What injuries did you have that kept you in for so long?" asked Dínfaron, his eyes wide.

"A few broken ribs, a broken arm, a lot of bruising and a few gashes," I said, shrugging.

"How in the name of all that is sacred, did you get those?" asked Ithilach.

"I had a fall," I said nonchalantly.

The girl shook her head in disbelief.

* * *

The weeks continued in a similar fashion, and I grew to like the Elflings very much. They were sweet and made me laugh, and they begged me for stories during break. I made sure to tell them funny ones. We also had very interesting discussions, such as the one below, which took place about six weeks after I had begun attending classes.

"I don't think Lady Aearama should count as a lady," commented Ithilach.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"She's really quite mean," she explained. "She treats a lot of people with disdain, and she gossips a lot," Ithilach said.

"How does that impact whether she is a Lady?" I asked. Dínfaron chuckled.

"We, as in our group of Elflings, have a view that people who act like lords and ladies should be called by those titles, whether they actually are or not, and if we could change the system, we would not call the malevolent people Lord or Lady."

"Good system, I like it. That means you have to call me by my name," I said.

"Not a chance! You are a Lady, through and through," said Lethril, shaking her head emphatically.

"I am not of high rank or noble birth," I pointed out.

"But, you do have style, you have grace, you have dignity and you have strength. Those are the qualities that we think ladies should have," Ithilach.

"Style is needed?" I asked, amused.

"Not necessarily with clothing. Everyone has a style or a way in which they take what life throws at them. You, dear Lady Elphaba, just take whatever comes head on, with a curse or a quip," Erestor said behind us. I jumped.

"Lord Erestor! How long have you been standing there?" I asked.

"Long enough to hear about Lady Aearama. What has she been doing that upset you so?" he asked Lethril and Ithilach, coming to sit down beside me.

"Well, she told us we were stupid, malicious Elflings who couldn't string a comprehensive sentence together when we were playing tag near where she and her friends were gossiping and she was also insulting a good friend of ours."

"Who were they insulting?" I asked curious, willing to wager I was right in who it was.

"No-one in particular," Lethril said hastily.

"No, no, I'm curious now. Tell me," I said.

"Well, if you truly want to know ... they were gossiping about you."

I nodded. "That was inevitable. But what, specifically?"

"Erm... please, do not kill me for the words," she said anxiously.

"Of course I would not kill you; you weren't the one gossiping. Just tell me what they were saying, please," I requested.

"They said that ... that you were a witch," Lethril said slowly.

"Well, that part's truth, not gossip," Erestor quipped. I elbowed him with a scowl.

"Really?" asked Glauril. I inclined my head, shooting a quick death glare at Erestor.

"In a sense, yes. I'm not really an Istar, but I am a sorceress. Please, go on," I said.

Ithilach took over.

"They also said that ... well, that you were a spy of Sauron," she said embarrassed.

"That is not true!" cried Erestor. I glanced at him. It was unusual for him to be so rattled.

"Erestor, what's wr- oh," I realised.

"Why is he angry at that part?" asked Dínfaron.

"Well, by saying that a spy from Sauron is free in Imladris, they are implying that Elrond is letting security go lax, and that he is a bad ruler. I imagine that theory's root was my skin colour," I explained.

"Why would people hate you for your skin colour? It's not ugly!" said Glauril, confused. He was quite intelligent academically, but more than a little confused about unwritten social laws.

"Lesson number one if you don't want to pick a fight or be targeted by malicious, vain maidens: Don't be different," I explained. "My skin is not an ugly colour, but it is a very different colour."

"That proves my point!" Ithilach cried.

"Which point?"

"That Lady Aearama is not a lady," she said.

"Do you know, I think you might be right!" I stated.

* * *

"How would you feel about learning to fight?" asked Erestor one morning in class, three months later. I was the only student left, the others having finished the schooling. He was sitting next to me and had been telling me about the Battle of Dagorlad. I quirked an eyebrow.

"You'd have to postpone the lessons to a later time," I said quietly.

"True, but since you are my only student now, we can afford to be flexible with the schedule," he said slowly. "I'm sure Glorfindel would be happy to teach you," he added.

I shook my head. "Why can't you teach me?" I asked.

"I do not enjoy using the sword. I prefer the quill," he said smoothly.

"Erestor, you are a master of tactics, strategic planning and you were at the Last Alliance, correct?"

"Correct."

"Glorfindel is more than a little chauvinistic. I believe he would not take me seriously, and that he would hold back."

"You are probably right," Erestor admitted.

"You would not."

"Well, no, but-"

"Therefore, it would be more worthwhile to be taught by you," I concluded.

Erestor groaned. "You have defeated me in an argument of wits yet again, Elphaba. How did you do it?"

I smiled knowingly. "Erestor, you hold an adoration for logical arguments."

"You know me so well," he said. I shrugged.

"So, when is our first lesson?" I asked him.

"Tomorrow, half an hour after dawn," he proposed.

"Done," I smiled brightly. You never knew when self-defence skills would come in handy until you had to use them.

* * *

**_A/N_**

**_If you do not want to review, I understand, but if you have any questions, please PM or email me. If you do want to review, then hooray for you, and you're brightening my life._**

**_God bless and keep you all safe,_**

**_Wing Commander Vinyaya_**

**_aka Lady Glirwest_**


	9. Soaring and Sparring

_**Now, we're starting to get to the part that you REALLY like. This, my dear friends, is what you have been waiting for ... and also, a little surprise for you at the end. **_

_**Well, thanks for reading, and sticking by me. All who have reviewed, you have my thanks.**_

-E-

Nethril barely looked up as I entered the room.

"Hello, Elphie," she said, seeming very subdued, without looking up. I looked at her.

"Nethril, what's wrong?" I asked, concerned.

She looked up at me and smiled weakly. "Nothing is wrong," she answered. I scowled.

"Don't lie to me, Nethri. Come on, hop up here and tell your lady what is wrong," I ordered sternly. She ambled over, and hopped onto the foot of the enormous bed.

"I do not know what is amiss with me, Elphie. I just feel flat, today. I've cleaned the room, the bathing room is spotless, and I've already done everything that can be done."

I listened intently, then I laughed with relief.

"You're bored, Nethril," I diagnosed.

"Bored?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Everything you do seems dull. It's usually caused when you've done the same old things over and over," I explained.

"And how is boredom fixed?" she asked.

"Very easily. You do something that you have not done before," I laughed.

"Do you have any ideas?" she asked. I smiled, and slid of the bed. I walked over to the closet and rifled through, eventually finding the desired sets of attire.

"Get changed," I ordered, tossing her a tunic and a pair of leggings, and grabbing the same. I shut the door, and stepped back a few paces, taking off my clothes and discarding them on my bed.

"What for?" Nethril asked, complying. I looked at her mischievously over my shoulder, before I pulled off my chemise.

"We, my dear Nethril, are going flying before we begin our daily torture," I answered honestly. Her eyebrows shot up.

"The broom would consent to bear me?" she asked incredulously.

"If you're with me, then, yes, it _will_," I answered, pulling my tunic down over my head, snatching up my broom and opening the door that led to my balcony.

"If anything happens to me, Istion will make your life a living hell," she warned. I looked at her, not intimidated.

"Who said anything would happen?" I asked, vaulting on and lowering my altitude, so Nethril could get on.

"No-one," she admitted reluctantly. I smiled at her.

"Then just relax, and let me do the work. This is my turf," I said. Nethril nodded.

"Should I hold onto your waist?" she asked.

"Probably," I said. "It can be a little frightening, and it's difficult to stay on if you just do anything with your hands. I'm controlling this thing by telekinesis, by the way," I added thoughtfully. Nethril's eyebrows skyrocketed.

"So you could order this broom to have a collision with a tree?" she asked. I grinned, shaking my head.

"I could _order _it to do so, but whether it would obey the order is doubtful," I answered. "Now, hold onto my waist; I'm tired of talking, and I need my adrenalin."

Five minutes of bliss later, I slid off the broom, offering my arms to Nethril. She slid into them, and I set her down on the balcony.

Nethril quickly dragged me inside and I cast a single, longing glance back at the broom before I closed the door. Sighing, I faced Nethril, and readied myself for the torture that would be coming. I was not disappointed.

The rest of the day passed in the usual way. Nethril smiled at me as she took me back to my room.

"Oh, by the way, Nethril," I said, casually. "There's a change in the schedule, starting tomorrow."

"Oh?" asked Nethril, instantly on the alert. "What is it?"

"Half an hour after dawn, I'm due to meet Erestor at the training grounds," I answered. Nethril sighed.

"You could not have told me sooner?" she asked, exasperated.

"It slipped my mind," I yawned. Nethril shook her head.

"Go on, get some sleep," she said affectionately.

"Yes, milady," I slurred, stumbling over to my bed.

I got out of my clothes, hung them up in a wardrobe, and collapsed into my bed, out like a candle.

_If you please, insert a line HERE!_

I awoke to the now familiar sounds of Nethril whistling a merry tune, as she bustled around the room.

"Good morning, Elphie!" she said cheerfully. I grumbled unintelligibly, getting up and out of bed in a now familiar daze; I was most certainly _NOT_ a 'morning person'. I stumbled over to the bathroom and began my morning ablutions, emerging what felt like a few minutes later. Still mumbling halfhearted mutiny, I strode over to my wardrobe and got out a tunic, leggings and light shoes.

"What's the time?" I asked eventually, wrestling with my shoes.

"About half an hour before dawn," Nethril answered. I blinked.

"You woke me up an hour before the lesson?" I asked, multitasking between the conversation and wrestling with the rebellious item of clothing.

"Well, yes. You usually took an hour to get ready for your lessons," she said dryly.

"WHAT? I never take very long getting dressed," I said shocked.

"No, but you have been spending a good half an hour or more in the bath," Nethril said. My eyes almost bugged out, and my jaw dropped.

"B-b-but it only feels like a few minutes!" I spluttered.

"Time flows differently when you're enjoying something," Nethril said calmly, handing me the tray. We sat down, our legs crossed. I began eating, but stopped when a thought occurred to me.

"Scientifically, that's impossible, since a person's subjective feelings does not alter the flow of time," I refuted. Nethril grinned, wickedly.

"Trust me, bring this up with Erestor: he will have the words to explain it," she said. I raised a brow, but went back to demolishing my breakfast.

After I finished, Nethril smiled.

"Now, Elphie. Care to get your broom?" she asked. I brightened, instantly. I was positively _addicted_ to flying. "We're flying there?" I asked. She cocked her head to one side.

"That will depend upon your answer to this question. If you are following someone else's directions, can you still control it?" she asked. I chewed the inside of my lip, thoughtfully.

"Maybe ... I haven't tried that. Well, only one way to find out!" I answered cheerily.

Nethril groaned, but she walked out onto the balcony anyway. Smirking, I snatched up my broom and followed her.

"So, where to now?" I shouted over the rushing wind.

"There! Down there!" Nethril yelled back, one finger stabbing down accusingly at a large patch of green.

"To hear is to obey!" I quipped, angling the broom into a steep, spiralling dive. "Hold on tight, Nethril!" I roared, laughing, my fists clenched around the broom in a death grip. Nethril screamed in terror, her arms around my waist in much the same manner, her nails digging into my skin.

The wind blew my hair back and carried the sounds that issued from our mouths away like a courier with a message. Adrenalin surged through my body, and the grin on my face was as wide as the river mouth. Eventually, I levelled the angle of our descent, bit by bit, until I could jump off the broom safely. I leapt off, and lowered the broom slightly, holding my hands out. Nethril took them, and I lightly deposited her on the ground.

"There we are. Now, are we in the right place?" I asked Nethril, bringing the broom over until I clasped it in my right hand. Nethril frowned slightly, and her gaze darted around, checking intently. Finally, she nodded.

"We are several minutes early, though. Shall we sit down?" she asked. I nodded, and then released my broom, rotating it until it was horizontal, and I leapt onto it, as it hovered in place.

"All right, have it your way, but I am not getting on that until it is time for you to head back, after the stunt you pulled," Nethril said firmly.

"Fine by me," I shrugged.

"Elphie? Do you want to play a game?" Nethril inquired.

"Sure. What game?" I asked.

"One where you have to list all the words ending in "a-t-i-o-n"," she answered.

"All right. I'll start. Assimilation."

"Association."

"Affirmation."

"Aberration."

"Allocation."

"Aviation."

"Adoration," said Lord Erestor, creeping up behind Nethril silently. I had seen him coming, but he had put a finger to his lips, urging me to be silent; and silent I had been.

Nethril yelped in shock, and spun around to face the lord. I grinned mischievously, staying on my broom.

"Lord Erestor! Ah, yes, Elphie flew us here on the broom." At that, Erestor looked at me.

"You flew?" he asked. I looked innocently at him,

"Well, it's not like Elrond said I couldn't use it for everyday purposes," I answered. He shook his head mildly.

"Nethril, I believe that we will take a few hours. About an hour and a half after we finish, if it is convenient, would be a good time for a lesson. I hope that will not be a problem?" he asked her. She shook her head.

"Not at all. I will come back, then, at about midmorning," she said. She gave me a quick hug, curtseyed and then began to walk off.

"Now," Erestor began. " Do you want to learn melee combat, ranged combat or both?" he asked me, sitting down. I considered briefly, before coming to a decision.

"I think I would like to do both," I said.

"Right. I am afraid to tell you that I am not extraordinary with the bow by any means, though I can do fair enough. I am better at melee combat," he said. I shrugged.

"Fair enough. What do we do now?"

"You are going to see which weapons take your fancy. Come, let us go to the armoury. We shall talk more on the way," he said. I reluctantly slid off the broom. He did not offer me his arm, for which I was grateful; chivalry was all very well, but it had no place on the training fields.

"So, Elphaba, how do you defend yourself?" he asked me, as we walked.

"Usually? I don't. Physically, that is. I just ran, or flew away. However, I did have a very sharp tongue that could be used as sword or shield," I said, simply.

"Ah. I have a great deal of difficulty imagining you running you away," he answered. I shrugged.

"Most people were so afraid of me that I never really had to learn to defend myself."

"Now, _that _I can imagine," he drawled, teasingly. He pushed open the door, and I grinned with glee.

"Oh, I like. I like this a _lot_," I said, looking around.

"Yes, I bet you do. Now, what weapons do you think you could handle?" Erestor asked. I frowned.

"Well, I want something bladed, since I don't have enough strength to be effective with a staff or a mace. But it has to be something light, because of the strength thing again," I mused as I paced around the armoury. "Hmm, now what have we here ... oh, this should do the job!" I said, pointing to a pair of long knives. Not long enough to be swords, not short enough to be daggers. Erestor came over, and appraised the weapons, then ran his eyes over me. I resisted the considerable temptation to make a risqué joke regarding manners and ogling, knowing that he was just judging whether I could wield the knives.

"Yes," he said finally. "Yes, you could eventually wield those," he said. I smiled, happy that my judgement had been correct.

"Now, for ranged, will you be learning bow and arrows?" he asked. I hummed in thought.

"Well, I think I should do that, but I also think that I'd like to learn how to throw knives," I said. Erestor grinned widely.

"Ah, on that score, I thoroughly agree with you," he answered. "Very well. Now, allow me," he said. He picked up the straps, and demonstrated how to strap the sheathes on, so that the hilt of each sword poked over each shoulder. Then, he handed it over, and asked me to do it. It took me several tries, but I managed it ... eventually. He moved over, and picked up an identical pair of knives, and strapped them on.

"We will work on the knives only at first," he clarified, seeing my confused look. I nodded in understanding. We walked back out of the doors, and returned to the training fields. I dropped my broom onto the grass.

"First, you need to learn how to unsheathe the knives," he said. I nodded. His hands went to his shoulders, and in one smooth movement, he withdrew the knives. I watched with narrowed eyes.

"Now, try it," he said. I replayed the sequence in my head, observing every detail. The hands went up, right hand to right shoulder, left to left. They clenched around the hilts and smoothly, the arm straightened from the elbow, lowering to a forty-five degree angle before bending at the elbow and retreating to a position with elbows by the side. I nodded, then mimicked the replay, managing to mimic it (or so I thought) reasonable well. I held the position, for a while. I blessed the extreme lightness of the blades, and the fact that I had not gone for a sword. These long knives were perfect.

"Then, you need to learn how to sheathe them," he said, demonstrating the move. I copied, repeating the same method as mentioned above.

"Unsheathe them," he said. I complied.

"Sheathe," he commanded.

"Unsheathe," he said.

"Sheathe," he said. He went on, repeating the process.

I admired the beauty of Erestor's teaching. It was truly incredible. The lesson consisted almost entirely of him telling me to sheathe and unsheathe my blades. The majority of my muscles were soon protesting the lack of movement. Erestor's making me stay in the same position with a select few muscle groups moving, meant that he was testing me physically, mentally and even emotionally. He tested my muscles' endurance, my mind's focus and my emotional resolve and self-control. I am sorry to say that, although resolve and self-control did not waver, unfortunately my focus and muscles did. This lapse earned me a long shallow gash on one arm, that I barely noticed. Thankfully, by the time Erestor noticed it, it was the end of our lesson anyway.

"Elphie!" Nethril said, shocked and concerned when I smiled and greeted her.

"What is it?" I asked her.

"Your arm!" she said, pointing to the appendage. I scowled at the offending limb.

"Damn. Ah, well. Nethril, hop on!" I said. "I'm sorry, Erestor but I don't think the broom can hold three people," I apologised. Then, I took off.

"So, what did you learn today?" Nethril asked me in my room, as we did our embroidery. It was nearly becoming soothing. The operative phrase in that sentence being 'nearly'.

"Well, in what part of today?" I asked, arching a brow as I continued my stitching.

"Your weapons lesson," she responded.

"Oh! Well, I learnt how to sheathe and unsheathe my blades, I revised my _Resistance Against Mental and Physical Attempts to Wind Me Up,_ and I learnt that I have a reasonably high pain threshold." Do you know what the funny thing is? I said that entire sentence without _any sarcasm at all._ Miraculous, I know.

"Ah? Good for you. You will need another bath today," Nethril said.

"Hmm? What, do I stink?" I inquired.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you do. However, that is not the worst part."

"What, pray tell, would the worst part be?"

"If you do not have a bath, you will be very, very, very sore," she said solemnly. I frowned.

"Damn it," I hissed. I got up and poked my head into the bathroom. Sure enough, another bath.

"Maybe it would save water if I just had my bath after my combat lesson," I called to Nethril. I didn't think there was a drought in Imladris, but I felt very guilty taking two baths in one day. My mother and Frex had taught me to be very careful with water.

"We could do that if you like, Elphie," Nethril answered.

"Hey, Nethri? Can I ask you a question?"

"I think you just did," she teased.

"Mm-hmm. Do other maids address their mistresses by their first names? Not that I want you to call me Lady or milady," I added hastily as I got into the tub.

"No, but you and I were friends before I was your maid," she answered.

"Good answer!" I called.

Minutes later, I emerged from the paradise known as a 'hot bath', clean, washed and dried. I smiled at Nethril.

"Do my hair?" I asked her.

"Certainly," she answered.

"Thanks," I said, moving over and sitting down in the chair in front of the looking glass. Moments later, I smiled at the reflection in the mirror. I actually looked pretty _good_.

"Excellent job, as always, Nethri," I complimented. She smiled, and we exited the room.

≈_If you please, kindly insert a line HERE...≈_

"Erestor?" I asked, when I entered the room.

"Yes, Elphaba?" he asked.

"Scientifically speaking, how can time flow be influenced by subjective emotions?" I asked, curious.

"What do you mean?" he asked, not quite seeing where I was driving with this.

"Well, time flows at a steady rate: sixty-seconds per minute, sixty minutes per hour, twenty-four hours per day. Whether you want to kill yourself or you feel like you are invincible, time still flows at that rate," I clarified.

"Ah, yes, I see what you mean now. However, it is perception, not reality," he explained. I seated myself at the desk next to him and stretched in the chair.

"Elaborate," I demanded.

"Very well. To begin with, no-one sees reality as it truly is, excluding Eru, he being the creator of everything. Since none of us are omniscient and we all have our flaws, our sense of reality is largely egocentric, all about how _we _and the people connected to _us_ interact with the world instead of, say, the cooks interact with it. Subconsciously, we think the world revolves around us. Consciously, as we grow up, we learn it does not, but we still have those subconscious beliefs. Second, my friend, our emotions our the only ones we can feel; you cannot feel mine unless I convey them to you and vice versa. Our emotions and our circumstances change our perception of the world around us, more often than not, and occasionally they also change the _reality_ of the world around us. Time, itself, one of the most valuable of currencies, cannot be manipulated, made to go faster or slower. Our _perception_ of it, however, most definitely _can_," he concluded. I stood up, and applauded.

"Bravo! Bravo!" I cried. "Milord, you are a _stunning_ orator," I said sincerely. Erestor smiled.

"Thank you, milady," he answered. "Now, if I may ask, what in Arda do you mean by 'scientifically speaking'?"

I tugged thoughtfully at my braid, sitting back down. "Well, if I had to define science in ten words, I would say that science is a methodical, practical study of the physical and natural worlds," I answered after a while. Erestor nodded. "So, what are we learning today?" I asked, curiously. Erestor's smile widened.

"Today, I thought I would take you up on your promise that you made earlier this year and learn more about Oz, if you do not mind." I looked at him.

"I hope you have a lot of patience, my friend," I said wryly before I began. "You know my life story. What more, precisely, do you wish to hear?" Erestor looked decidedly guilty at the words 'life story'.

"Erestor. Tell me what's wrong," I ordered him softly. His silvery gaze met mine hesitantly.

"Would it hurt you if I said that I was not really ... _listening_, when Glorfindel, Elrond and I eavesdropped on you?"

"No, but it does confuse the hell out of me," I responded instantly, my eyebrows shooting up. "How does _that _work?" I asked, greatly befuddled. Erestor fidgeted, and I had to grin. "How old are you?"

"6,304 years," he answered. "Why?" My grin widened.

"It's just incredibly _amusing_ that an ellon 6,304 years old is _fidgeting_ like a nervous child who's been caught pranking someone," I answered. Erestor glared at that. I held up my hands. "I have asked before and I will ask again: how did that happen?"

"All right; for a start, Elrond's idea of eavesdropping went against my ethics. I do not like prying into matters which people wish to conceal, so long as they do not pose a threat to Elrond, Imladris or the world, in general," he explained.

"You have some secrets yourself," I said bluntly: it wasn't exactly a question.

"Aye, and some of them, not even Glorfindel and Elrond, the two Elves I love like brothers, know about," he said, looking a tad worried after what he had said registered. I smiled reassuringly at him.

"Relax, Erestor. I swear to you, I will not try pry into your past, or attempt to manipulate you into telling me them," I said. "It would do possibly irreparable damage to our friendship, which I value very highly indeed."

The tension flowed out of his body; once more, he was the outwardly quiet, but secretly back-answering, logical and scholarly Elf that I held so dear.

"Good. I am sorry to think such thoughts, but lesser ellyth-"

"Will do a lot for some good gossip. Believe me, I know," I finished for him. "However, we are digressing from your explanation. Please, _mellon nin,_ continue," I said, with a swishing hand gesture to encourage him to continue.

"I long ago learnt how to hear without listening. What I did was that I would listen, but I would think that it was something I should forget, and I would," he shrugged. I frowned a bit, then it clicked.

"Ah... yes, that makes sense," I said. "Do you want me to tell you again?" I asked him.

"If it is not any trouble," he replied.

"No trouble at all," I answered. "If you have any questions, please ask them," I said. "So, it all started out in Munchkinland, as it was known then."

"I am Elphaba Thropp, the daughter of Melena and the Wizard. The Wizard, although he sired me, was not my father, you must understand. I was an illegitimate child. The Wizard was not married to Melena, for when I was conceived, she was married to another man, Brother Frexspar the Godly. And it was Frex, who was my father." Erestor held up a finger. "Question?"

"Yes. Am I to understand that your mother was bonded to two men?" he asked, looking very confused. I mirrored his expression.

"_Bonded_? What, by the Kells, does that mean?" I asked. Erestor coughed. Sweet Kumbricia, was he _blushing_?

"Oh, Valar, this is difficult. Very well. I believe you know about what is delicately referred to as the 'birds and the bees'?" he asked. I nodded, as uncomfortable as him.

"Yes, I _do_ know. What does that have to do with 'bonds'?" I asked.

"Well ... Elves are unique, when it comes to mates. Elves are monogamous, and when a couple has ... _intercourse_, which we refer to as binding, they become not only united through the flesh, but through the soul," Erestor explained, _mostly_ managing to avoid blushing. _Mostly_. I was a bit dark, myself.

"Ah. Well, Erestor, in answer, no. As you will recall, my mother was a munchkin, not an Elf. Munchkins were not bound through the soul to a partner," I answered. "Now, my father Brother Frexspar was a Unionist, a devout member of a religion. On the day of my birth, an heathen symbolic dragon was coming through our town. It was of the pleasure faith. It denounced my father, and shamed him, and drove the village folk mad. My mother was forced to give birth to me in the Time Dragon. She was assisted by three of the village women. Now, after the birth, my mother had fainted. She was an idiotic, sheltered girl of nobility who had married below her station. My mother and I did not like each other very much. She fed me, clothed me, yes, but she did not love me. My father wasn't as ambivalent but still favoured Nessarose, my little sister more. My sister, Nessarose, was born when I was a toddler. Now, Nessarose, like myself, didn't come out quite right. She had no arms," I said. Erestor's eyebrows shot up.

"_What?"_ he asked, his tone incredulous.

"She. Had. No. Arms," I said slowly.

"How?"

"She was born early. She was born before she was fully developed," I answered. Erestor rubbed his brow.

"That seems-"

"Unnatural? What, aren't there disabled Elves?" I asked.

"The only Elves without limbs are ones whose limbs have been hacked off in battle," Erestor answered with a trace of sadness in his voice.

"Oh. Anyway, my sister and I were moved to the Quadling Country just after Nessa was born. Now, Quadling Country is hot, humid and all marsh country. Frex wanted us there to spread Unionism and convert the locals. And here, was when I first started becoming bitter. You see, Frex would take me around as evidence of punishment against going against the Unnamed God. I would grin, and start to sing. For years and years, my own father used me as a tool. I won a scholarship, however, when I was fifteen, to study at Shiz University.."

I'll stop there. You all ready know my life story. I came to a quandary, when it came to Liir and Fiyero, but I decided to include them in the story too. By the time I was finished, Erestor's eyes were wide.

"Erestor? Are you well, _mellon nin_?" I asked, concerned. He smiled.

"I-I am fine, thank you, Elphaba," he said. I looked at him.

"You aren't _frightened_, are you?" I asked him.

"No. I am fine, I am just trying to take in what you have said," he said.

"Ah. Sorry about that. It is a bit to take in, I know. So ... what did you want to hear about?" I asked him. He frowned, thinking for a few moments.

"Tell me about Lurline, and the others," he said eventually. I brightened instantaneously, and launched into an explanation, finishing just as the lunch bell rang. Erestor stood up.

"Would you do me the honour of allowing me to escort you?" he asked, firing a wink at me. I grinned.

"Milord, nothing would give me greater pleasure" I replied formally, returning his wink. I placed my right hand on his extended left arm, and we swept out, focusing more on keeping a straight face than anything else.

Nethril raised an eyebrow at me, as I thanked Erestor and sat in my seat.

"Fuelling the rumour mill, are we?" she asked archly.

"Whatever are you talking about?" I asked, with my typical social cluelessness.

"Oh, dear. Very well. There have been rumours describing the amount of time that you spend with Erestor as a love affair," she said, straight-faced.

"_What?_" I asked, incredulous.

"You heard me."

"That's ridiculous! Erestor is _far_ too honourable to even _consider_ a thing like that," I hissed, my cheeks darkening at the idea.

"My, my, Elphie, are you blushing?" Celonith teased, placing a cool hand on my hot cheeks. "It certainly feels like that," she laughed.

"All right, yes, I am blushing. But _honestly ..._ how the blazes did they come up with that idea?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Well, Elphie, you are a single elleth. Erestor is a single ellon. Both of you are reclusive, and are close to very few people. Everyone knows _of_ you, but virtually no-one _knows_ you. Both of you spend a fair bit of time together. You are quite close," Nethril elaborated.

"Close and single does _not_ equal love affair," I hissed again.

"Well, no, but since when do little things like the truth stop gossip?" Glirwing asked.

"Ugh, fuck," I sighed, resigned. "So, who are the main people gossiping?" I asked, grumpily.

"The main culprit is Lady Aearama and her clique. They are a group of vain, rich single ellyth whose favourite past-times are gossiping, admiring themselves, bullying other ellyth and hounding ellyn," Celonith said. I smiled chillingly.

"If they are looking for a fight, I shall be most happy to oblige," I purred. Nethril shuddered violently.

"I do not envy their position, right now," she said.

"Agreed," said Glirwing and Celonith as one.

_If you please, kindly insert a line HERE...≈_

The next morning, I followed the routine of yesterday, only fully waking up when I got onto the broom. I kept the fancy flying to a minimum, not wanting to piss off Nethril. This time, when I landed, Erestor was waiting for us. I hopped off the broom, set Nethril down and caught the broom in my right fist.

"See you in a few hours, Nethril," I said to her. She hugged me, and then strode off. I smiled and turned to Erestor.

"Shall we?"

That lesson, Erestor continued with the same drill as yesterday for a good half of it. However, a few seconds beyond that point, he lost it.

"I do not understand! Even Elrond could not resist snapping under this technique!" he cried. I smiled serenely.

"Has Lord Elrond been trained in resisting torture?" I asked, lifting a brow, not moving a muscle other than my tongue, my mouth and eyebrow.

"No."

"Well, I have, and that includes physical, mental and emotional torture," I said seriously.

"Then, explain the purpose of this exercise to me," he shot back with crafty smile. "Sheathe!"

"Too easy! It is more taxing on a body to stay still for the most part and use only a select group of muscles, than to use many at once. It requires more precision and stamina. Because you are only moving a few muscles at once, if they aren't strong, it's easier to notice the pain. It's easier to notice pain in a muscle when only a few are moving. When someone's brain and emotions _aren't _juggling a dozen other things, it's easier to become disgruntled about the pain. And unless someone's self-control is extraordinary, they will eventually explode," I finished, obeying his order simultaneously. Erestor's expression filled with new respect.

"You are the only one who understands that technique," he said in a low tone.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes. I think I can move you onto some more advanced work," he said at last.

"Good."

During the second half of the lesson, Erestor taught me how to parry and deflect some of the basic , when I was just wiping some of the sweat from my brow, I heard a voice, and it wasn't Nethril's.

"Elphaba? May I have a word?"

I looked at the elleth who had called my name. She was shorter than me, standing at 5 foot nine. I had undergone a _massive_ gain in height when I turned into an Elf, and stood at about 6 foot, roughly equal to Erestor in height. Her hair was ebony, and her eyes were the colour of iron. She was beautiful, yes, but there was something about her I didn't like.

"Certainly," I said, sheathing my blades. "I'll just be a moment, Erestor," I said quickly. He bit his lip, but he nodded slightly.

"What can I do for you, Lady-" My voice trailed off.

"Aearama," she said. "Not a great deal. I just wanted to see the elleth that all of Imladris is talking about, and who seems to have bewitched the Chief Councillor, to investigate what all the talk is about."

"And what, pray tell, are the results of your investigation?" I asked.

"As far as I can tell, apart from an unusual appearance, this elleth has no virtues, and even her appearance, while unusual, is not attractive. Perhaps it is not what this elleth is but what she _does_ that keeps the Chief Councillor so interested," she sneered.

"You forget, _Lady _Aearama_,_ for that to occur, there would need to be someone willing to _participate_ in such _activities_. By insinuating such, you are implying that Lord Erestor would be so ignoble as to stoop to that. You betray your true colours by allowing yourself to consider such things, and you, today, have proved that you most certainly are no Lady," I shot back icily.

I was not altogether surprised by the slap across my cheek. I smiled coldly at the elleth.

"That, _milady_, was pathetic. Just like you and your behaviour. I bid you good day," I said contemptuously, turning on my heel and striding back.

"I DID NOT EXCUSE YOU!" she screamed shrilly. I paused, and walked back, looking her straight in the eyes.

"No, you did not. _I _excused _you_. Now, run along and play like the Lady you are not," I said, my tone scornful. That point clarified, I strode back to wear Erestor was waiting with worried eyes. I sighed as I walked. He was incredibly astute, yes, but catfights can make Sauron look like the bogeyman...

Well, almost.

* * *

_**Hope you're having fun thus far, and I'll catch you in the next chapter ... and I have no clue what it's title will be.**_


	10. Midnight Meeting

_Author's Note:_

_Elphaba Lives! will be either a single fic, or it will be a saga spanning across more than one. It will (probably) end in Valinor/Aman, and after that I may write some one-shots. Oh, and I took the Mary Sue Litmus Test: Elphaba is NOT a Sue! *turns on sister's speakers, cuts cakes, brings out confetti and streamers, does happy dance whilst singing 'Celebrate' by Kool and the Gang * HALLELUJAH! YAHOO!_

_But, um, before those of us __**over**__ the __**legal**__ drinking ages break out the alcohol and those of us__**under**__it break out the __**soft drinks**__, I feel the need to clarify an issue: The only real reason Elphaba is doing embroidery and deportment is because she does not want to give Aearama and her clique any ammo about how 'ladylike' and 'well-mannered' she is and about her . But don't worry; she won't do everything. For instance, she won't learn to cook; she already knows that._

_Warning: Swearing, bitching and Aunt Flow. You have been warned._

_On that note, I would like to welcome you to Elphaba Lives! Chapter 10: _

≈If you please, kindly insert a line here.≈

As I strode back, I wondered at my feelings. I was not pissed off, per se, not at the insult to myself. What did piss me off was that Lady Aearama thought she had the right to insult me without knowing a single thing; call me a masochist, but I was actually rather pleased with my slap.

Erestor was not pleased.

"Elphaba, are you all right?" he asked me. I smirked.

"Oh, I'm much better than that. I am ecstatic; positively _elated_," I gushed.

"Ecsta... Who are you and what have you done to Elphaba?" he asked in almost horrified jest.

"Oh, so clichéd," I chided him gently. "Look, I'm great. Why do you ask?"

"Lady Aearama is not the most friendly of ellyth," he said tactfully.

"I'll say; almost malicious, in fact. You did not tell me that you were such a ladies' ellon," I teased him. He blushed, but his expression was pitiful.

"I do not understand why they are after me! Hounding Glorfindel, I can understand but why me!" he lamented.

"Simple," I said. "You have a good pay, you're quite attractive and you're of nobility. Glorfindel has the added bonus by being a Balrog-slayer and blond," I added mildly.

He shook his head.

"Ellyth of her ilk take great pleasure in ruining ellyn's relationships with females, be they platonic or romantic. I beg of you, do not let her ruin our friendship." I smiled.

"Oh, do not fear. All that little altercation did was piss me off," I said, my hand subconsciously going to my cheek. Erestor saw the motion and caught my wrist in a firm grip.

"Let me see," he said firmly.

"See what?" I asked, throwing him a red herring in desperation, but he ignored it. He drew back the hair covering my cheek, and he inhaled sharply when he saw the skin that was several shades of darker green than the rest of my face.

"She hit you," he hissed, placing a hand gently on my cheek.

"Well, yes," I said.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"No," I answered, easily meeting his eyes. His thumb stroked my cheek for a few moments and then fell to his side. I took his hand and squeezed it.

"Thanks, Erestor. For everything," I said softly, before I saw Nethril approaching rapidly.

"Elphie!" she cried. I turned to Erestor.

"I'll see you soon," I said. Then, I swung Nethril onto the broom and hopped on as well.

"I saw you and Aearama, today," Nethril said, handing me my stitching.

"Hm? Ah, yes. I now understand why you said embroidery was an imperative. She pissed me off," I growled, beginning my sewing. I could now multitask between conversation and embroidery.

"Oh? What did she say? I wasn't close enough to hear," Nethril replied.

"Quote, 'Perhaps it is not what this elleth is but what she does that keeps the Councillor so interested.'"

Nethril flinched. "And?"

"'She has no virtues and even her appearance, although unusual, is not attractive,'" I quoted, smiling mirthlessly.

"She is wrong," Nethril said flatly.

"Really? I am glad to hear you say that," I smiled.

"You know, I think that we have to do something about those ellyth," she said thoughtfully.

"Really? They're barely bothering me," I responded.

"But they are also antagonising many of the ellyn, who are at their wits' end, and they've been rather hostile to our friends, Glirwing, Niphredil and Celonith," she said.

"What!" I roared, flinging down my stitching. I heard 'hostile', 'Glirwing', 'Niphredil' and 'Celonith'. To blazes with my handkerchief! Admittedly, I hadn't known them for very long, but they had shown themselves to be accepting of my many quirks, eccentricities and had been very kind to me.

"You heard me," Nethril said archly.

"All right, that's it. That is it. Nethril, we are going to teach them a lesson they shall not forget!" I snapped.

"Ah, now _that_ did the trick. Who else should be involved? There is me, you, Glirwing, Niphredil, Celonith, Istion ... who else?" she asked, frowning.

"Erestor and Glorfindel!" I said quickly.

"Surely not!" Nethril protested, shocked.

"Surely so," I affirmed, grinning wickedly. "Believe me, they _will_ want in."

"All right, but you are telling them, savvy?"

"Savvy!" I chirped, my grin widening. Nethril was picking up on my slang.

"All right ... who else?"

"Istion's patrol? You know, Mithlach and the others?" I suggested. She smacked her head.

"Of course! Good thinking."

"So, that makes eighteen combatants. Now, what shall we fight them with?" I asked. I wasn't very knowledgeable in the area of how to handle bitching.

"Pranks!" Nethril said promptly.

"Like?"

"Well, dying their hair a bizarre colour, for instance," she said with an unsettling grin.

"Oh, I like. Hmm, what about ... giving them a soporific, and cutting their hair in such a manner that really doesn't suit them?" I asked.

"Excellent!"

"Now, I will tell Erestor during the lesson. You can tell our Istion and our friends at lunch, Istion can tell his patrol at dinner," I said. "And perhaps we should call a meeting somewhere? Niphredil's garden would be perfect, and it would be good to do it at midnight."

"Yes, it would. Now, if you want to be at your lesson on time, you had better get in the tub now," Nethril said.

"Yes, milady!" I said, darting to the bathroom and closing it behind me.

≈If you please, kindly insert a line here.≈

"Erestor?" I asked, entering the classroom.

"Mmm? What is it, Elphaba?"

"Tell me ... what do you know about pranks?" I asked, standing against a wall with my arms folded.

"What?"

"Oh, my apologies. Allow me to paraphrase that. Are you any good as a prankster?" I asked, mischievously.

"I am reasonably skilled when it comes to pranks," he said with dignity.

"Excellent. And how would you like to exact revenge upon the ellyth that are stalking you?" I asked. A smile began to play around the corner of his mouth.

"Splendid. Now, tell me, can you convince Glorfindel?" I asked. He smirked.

"What, the Vanya? Too easily. Even if he is unwilling, I have plenty of blackmail material." He stood up and offered me his arm. I smiled, accepted it, and we swept out of the room.

"Oh, incidentally, Erestor, did you know that, apparently, there are some people think that our relationship is a love affair," I informed him in Qu'aati, which I had taught him whilst he taught me Sindarin.

"_What_?" he asked, for the second time that day, but in Qu'aati this time.

"Yes, I am afraid so," I said quietly, still in Qu'aati. "Amazing, what people come up with, isn't it?" I said.

"Yes, that's true," he chuckled ruefully. We walked in silence to Glorfindel's door. Erestor rapped on the door sharply. Ta-tateta-ta-ta!

"Come in," Glorfindel called.

"Ah, Erestor, Elphaba, what can I do for you?" he asked us. We exchanged grins, as we sat down.

"Tell me, Glorfindel, have you been troubled by ellyth, recently?" I asked innocently. His eyes narrowed slightly, before he sighed and he settled into a slouch.

"Yes, I have. Why do you ask?" he replied.

"Well, they have been bothering me as well, as well as poor Erestor here. Now, Nethril and I have come up with an idea that will solve this problem," I answered.

"Anything!" he said, desperately.

"How would you like a chance to hone your pranking skills?" Erestor asked, with a disarming smile on his face.

Slowly, Glorfindel began to beam.

"I'll take that as a yes," I smiled. "Do you have any urgent work?" I asked Glorfindel. He shook his head.

"Nothing that I cannot procrastinate," he answered. "Why?"

I turned to Erestor, ignoring Glorfindel's inquiry.

"Erestor," I began persuasively. "Do you think that, perhaps, our lesson time might be better spent plotting and strategising?"

"Excellent idea. Glorfindel, you do not mind?"

"Of course not."

"Glorfindel, can you pass me some parchment?" I asked. He handed it over, as well as quill and ink. "Now, who has suggestions as for pranks?" I inquired.

≈If you please, kindly insert a line here≈

"Now, Nethril and I will be in the Hall of Fire. When you see Nethril and I leave, follow us. Are we clear?" I asked.

"Utterly clear," answered Erestor.

"Excellent. Anyway, I shall see you at midnight," I said.

I walked over to where Nethril and the others were sitting.

"Hello, you lot. Has Nethril told you about the plan?" I asked, seating myself.

"Aye, she has. Have you convinced the esteemed Lords Erestor and Glorfindel to join us in our campaign?" Niphredil asked. I chuckled a little at that.

"Convinced them? They barely needed any persuasion at all!" I answered.

"That is well indeed!" exclaimed Glirwing.

It was, with enormous exercising of self-control and restraint, that I managed not to drool at the food and it's _unbelievably_ tantalising aroma. However, although I did attempt not to inhale the food like a wolf, I was not completely succeeding in the noble endeavour if Nethril's occasional dig in my ribs were any sort of yardstick. I guessed that the manner of my eating lunch would be like high-quality silver to Aearama and her clique; gold would be if I behaved like an idiot, commoner (even though I was, in this world), and platinum would be if I were caught in some sort of compromising situation with Erestor. However, I had no intention of giving Aearama and her clique any ammunition that I could avoid, within reason.

Throughout my music lesson with Lindir, from the moment I entered the Hall of Fire, I was full of anticipation and eagerness for the coming meeting; and, oh, did it show!

I pounded out the most complicated tattoos he set me with what could only be described as glee. At the end, Lindir smiled at me.

"You are doing very well, Elphaba. If you wished to learn a different instrument, you could," he offered. I considered this briefly.

"Thank you, Lindir, but I like the drums. There is something very comforting about the rhythms," I said finally. He smiled.

"I thought you would say that."

I walked through the corridors to my chambers, and smiled at the sight of Nethril taking what looked like a siesta on my bed. She worked so hard, every day. A few weeks ago, I had literally caught her napping on my bed, and when she woke up, had said to her: "As your lady, I am partially responsible your welfare. Your welfare includes getting some decent time in the Land of Nod and some free time. If you need to have a nap once a day, then do so. When I do not need you, you are free to do whatever you want provided it is not destructive."

It gave me immense pleasure to see her taking me up on my offer. I grabbed a sheet of parchment, and quickly dipped my quill in the inkwell, jotting Nethril a quick note:

_Dear Nethri,_

_Have gone for a fly. I promise to be on time for dinner. Do not worry about me if I am not there when you wake up. I'll be fine._

_Elphaba, 2:30pm. _

I quickly changed into tunic and leggings, snatched up my broom and silently slipped out onto my balcony. I vaulted on and soared upwards in a steep angle, my fingers always tight around the broom. I stopped ascending when I was at about seventy feet, and halted, level, for a few moments, still. Then, after growing tired of the stillness, I sat ramrod straight, tightened my grip with hands and legs, and dropped a good sixty feet, before I halted about ten feet above the roofs of the houses. I leaned forward, angled up by forty-five degrees, and accelerated for a few moments, before levelling out. The wind whipped at my hair, sending it streaming back, snatching the hair ribbon and carrying it away.

I looked at the landscape beneath me, narrowing my eyes. I instinctively slowed to a glide, adjusted my grip, and began to fly in a wide circle. A silvery-white river flowed through the landscape like blood through a vein below.

"That must be the Bruinen," I murmured. Circling wide, I acted on an impulse. This happened to be what most Elves would classify as "first-class madness", and what I classified as an "Ah, what the hell," impulse. I angled down by about five or ten degrees and began to spiral down, slowly narrowing my circle, and descending further, until I jumped off when it was about my height. I looked around. I was on the banks of the Bruinen. The river roared, leapt, and further downstream it sprang off the rocks and crashed upon them; it was awesome, intriguing and in some parts, terrifying.

"My, my," I said, impressed. Overall, it gave off an air of majesty, might and power. "This is a what I call a river."

_Yes, it is impressive, Fabala. But, if you don't get back __now__, Nethril will have a turquoise fit, note or no note! _Selene piped up. I scowled.

_Killjoy. And isn't the vernacular, a 'blue fit'?_ I shot back. Selene snorted.

_Fabala, do you think I give a damn? Flippancy aside, you __need__ to get back. I'm not mucking around._

I sighed. _Fine. _

Saddened, I hopped back onto the broom and flew straight back to my room. The flight had none of its customary pleasure and my demeanour was only improved by warning thoughts of Nethril being hurt by me if I was in a foul mood, put there courtesy of Selene. I slipped in silently, and was met by a panicked Nethril.

"Where have you been?" she cried.

"I've been flying," I said, unsure of what the problem was.

"Flying. Alone?" she asked. I nodded. She flung her arms around me and clung to me. I dropped the broom, and moved to sit on the bed. Nethril seemed to be holding onto me for dear life.

"Shush, shush, what's wrong, Nethri?" I asked her softly.

"You mean other than from you scaring the flaming Ûdun out of me?" she snickered wearily into my shoulder.

"Oh, I ... did it truly frighten you so, Nethri?" I asked.

"Yes, it did."

I hugged her tightly.

"Oh, Nethril. Listen. I will not always be where you can see me. But, I wish you to not be afraid for me, Nethril; I am learning, every day, in so many ways, and revising on skills I have already learnt. You do not need to fear for me."

Silence rang clearly throughout the room for a few minutes. Eventually, Nethri looked straight up into my eyes.

"I still will though, you know," she said bluntly. I laughed.

"All right, all right, Nethril. Now, to make up for my flight, I am going to do something I would never thought I'd do. I will do some more embroidery and deportment, even though it pains me to do so," I said, offering her an olive branch - not inconsiderable in size, I might add.

"Really?" Nethril asked, sounding like a girl who had just gotten a Lurlinemas present.

"Yes, yes, if it will cheer you up," I affirmed.

≈If you please, kindly insert a line here≈

"Oh, hurrah!" I cried as the dinner bell rang. I almost ran out of the room, pausing only to grab writing tools, into the hall and down to the dining room, not hearing Nethril's shout behind me. Entering the room, I made a beeline for my friends.

"Elphie?" Niphredil asked, raising a brow.

"Yep, what is it?" I asked, slipping into my seat and placing my writing utensils under my seat.

"You are aware you are wearing a tunic?" she asked. I looked down at my attire and saw that she was indeed correct.

"Oh, damnation," I sighed. "Aearama and her clique will love this. Oh well," I sighed, resigned.

"No jesting, they really will," Nethril sighed as she sat down next to me. "You do not wish to go change, do you?" she asked. I shook my head, looking at my navy-blue tunic and leggings.

"No. Bad enough that they will have the gall to criticise me for wearing tunic and leggings; I will not acquiesce and give in," I said firmly.

"Very well, Elphie," Nethril sighed. We ate our meal in silence. At the end, I took Nethril by the hand and jerked my head towards the Hall of Fire. She nodded, and gestured for the rest of our friends to follow, whilst I grabbed my writing tools.

We entered the Hall of Fire, and Lindir beckoned me over.

"Elphaba. There is an Elf performing and he wishes for an accompaniment on the drums. The rhythm is easy enough; it was the first one I made you play this afternoon," he reassured me, seeing the look of terror upon my face.

"That one?" I asked.

"Yes, that one. Do not fear, I will also be accompanying the Elf on the harp."

"When is he going to perform?" I asked. Lindir grinned mischievously.

"Right about … now," he answered, grabbing my by the arm, and walking me to where my drums and his harp were waiting.

_Okay, Fabala, don't worry about it; just keep your head and your cool. You're the Daughter of the Dragon, and you have the right to hold your head high_, Selene soothed gently. I smiled a little. _Thanks, Selene._

_Don't worry: You'll put the other ladies to shame, if you just play with your gut,_ she advised. I took a deep breath.

_Will do._ I moved into position behind the drums, quickly hiding the parchment and other instruments from view and Lindir sat down beside his harp. He winked at me.

"I will signal you when to come in," he whispered. I swallowed, nervous, but I nodded. An Elf appeared in between us, and stepped forward.

He began to sing. I listened, enchanted, only to be jolted out of my reverie by the sounds of Lindir's harp, which subtly augmented the Elf's singing. I looked at Lindir closely; eventually he glanced at me and nodded, almost imperceptibly. I took a deep breath, and began to pound out the rhythm. I closed my eyes, not wanting to let anyone see the nerves in my eyes. After another stanza had passed, though, I stopped being afraid of the audience seeing me make a fool of myself, and I grew bolder with the volume. Soon, I had forgotten all about Aearama and her stupid clique and was kicking and twisting with a grin that was as wide as the river mouth and my eyes wide open. All too soon, though, I had to finish, but my grin remained firmly plastered onto my face. I curtseyed to the audience, nodded to Lindir and the Elf, and slipped away to join my friends.

"Sorry, _mellyn nin,_ that was not what I intended to happen," I apologised.

"Oh, do not be sorry, Elphie; I did not know that you had improved so much on the drum," Nethril said warmly.

"Thanks, Nethri," I thanked her.

The rest of our evening in the Hall of Fire passed uneventfully. Lindir and his merry band were packing up, when I caught Erestor's eye and nodded once. I turned to Nethril, jerked my head to an exit and she nodded. Niphredil and Celonith ambled over, and I dragged Glirwing over to where we were congregating.

"Well, ladies. We have a rendezvous, if you remember aright," I reminded them. "Shall we?"

Grinning, we moved out of the room. Once away from the eyes' of strangers, I started skipping along the corridors, the other ellyth soon joining me. Giggling from our brief silliness and regression to childhood, they flung themselves onto the grass side by side, whilst I sat down, not wishing to spill any of the ink.

"Hello, miladies!" a cheerful voice greeted us a few moments later.

"Gellfuin, long time, no see," I greeted, not rising.

"It's good to see you again, Lady Elphaba," Saeros said. I smiled at him.

"Same to you, my friend. Let's see, whose names have I forgotten ... You're Angolant, aren't you?" I asked, pointing to an ellon. He nodded. "You're Mithlach, you're Sítheron," the ellon I pointed to shook his head.

"I'm Tinnuast. This," he said, gesturing to another ellon, "is Sítheron."

And so it went on, only finishing when Glorfindel and Erestor had arrived. Nethril dug me in the ribs.

"What?" I asked her.

"Stand up. You're the one meant to explain the plan."

I glared at her. "Thanks for dropping me in it, Nethril," I hissed.

"You're welcome. Now, stand up." Obediently, I stood, and I moved into a patch of moonlight, holding up a hand patiently until the chatter died away.

"For those of you who do not know why you are here, I presume that you are aware of a small sect of the female population of Imladris. We all know whom I am discussing. Long have you endured their petulant and childish actions and antics, but we shall not tolerate this any longer."

"But how?" asked Ringris.

"We are going to wage a prank war upon the Lady Aearama and her followers."

There was silence for a minute, as this information sank in.

"How, precisely?" Gellfuin asked practically. I turned to Nethril.

"Nethril, how many are in the Lady Aearama's clique, including herself?" I asked, brow raised.

"Seven ellyth," she said.

"Very well. You will split into pairs. Come up to me when you have a group, and I will allocate you a Lady tonight, and tell you who you are targeting tomorrow," I announced. Nods all around. I headed towards Erestor.

"Three?" I asked him.

"Certainly," they said quickly.

Soon, Istion and Nethri were a pair, and not long after, just about everyone had grouped up, with five duos and two trios. I jotted the names of the people in the groups as quickly as I could.

"All right, does everyone have a group?" I called after a few minutes.

"Yes," the Elves called.

"Excellent. Well, I or the grapevine will tell you your targets tomorrow at lunch. Now, I think we had best be getting to bed," I announced. There were murmurs of agreement, and Nethril and I began to head off to my rooms.

"Elphaba?" Erestor inquired, beside me. I jumped a bit, startled.

"Shit, you scared me. What's the matter?"

"I wondered if you could use my help with sorting out the pairs and targets," he offered. I smiled gratefully.

"I really could. I'm sorry to say it, but my head is spinning from the names," I admitted frankly. He smiled gently, and we headed to my chambers. I grabbed a piece of parchment and sat on the bed. Nethril joined me, and Erestor sat on the chair in the desk.

Finally, we settled upon Istion and Nethril targeting Lady Sidhwen, Glorfindel and Glirwing targeting Lady Thonheril and Ringris and Saeros targeting Lady Rosnen. Mithlach and Gellfuin would prank Lady Mirloch, Celonith and Niphredil were taking on Lady Lhothwen, Tinuast, Sítheron and Corechil would take the Lady Glosgil and Erestor and I would be on a mission to make Lady Aearama's life a living Ûdun for a few months at least, with a vengeance.

I sighed as the targets were at last confirmed. "Ugh. Erestor, I hope you don't mind but I think I might not be able to do practise tomorrow. If it were any other day I would but..." my voice trailed off. He smiled warmly.

"I understand; you probably need more sleep than the rest of us, because your mind is still used to needing more rest, and it is very late. Do not worry." He stood and I slid off the bed. He quickly kissed me on the forehead and exited the room. I looked at Nethril.

"Nethri?" I said, my tone thoughtful.

"Yes, Elphie?"

"Do you want to just talk for a bit?" I asked. She smiled.

"That sounds like a good plan," she said indulgently, like a parent granting a request to a child who has been working hard. I beamed, and leapt back across the room, sailing onto the bed and landing on my belly.

"Ah, that feels good," I sighed, wriggling into a comfortable position. I looked at Nethri.

"Do you fully know what your wedding will be like?" I asked her. She smiled vaguely.

"For some part. I know what the ceremony will be like, but I know little else." I blinked a few times, before the information sunk in.

"WHAT?" I asked, incredulous.

"I do believe that word will soon become the motto of Imladris," Nethril mused, a thoughtful smile on her face.

"That's a matter of opinion. But you haven't planned your wedding?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, no."

"Will it be a big wedding or a small one?" I asked.

"Small, I think," Nethril said.

"Will there be dancing after the ceremony?"

"Of course."

"Will there be a meal to celebrate?"

"Naturally."

"What will your dress look like?"

"I am not entirely sure," she said slowly.

"Who will the attendants be?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Oh, that's easy. You, Glirwing, Celonith and Niphredil," she said decisively.

"Well, that's some of it planned," I sighed. "We should go to the seamstresses tomorrow, see if they have any ideas for the dress," I suggested.

"Good idea," she yawned. I smiled at her.

"Go and get some sleep, Nethri," I said gently, before a massive yawn caught me off guard.

"I will, Elphie, if you take your own advice."

≈If you please, kindly insert a line here.≈

"Elphie, wake up!" Nethril called.

I grumbled unintelligibly, which was probably for the best, considering how foul my mood was that morning.

"What was that?" Nethril asked cheerfully.

Again, I mumbled unintelligibly. Eventually, it clicked in my half-asleep brain that I had to get up. Reluctantly, I threw the covers off, and got to my feet, blinking.

"What's the time, Nethril?" I yawned.

"About half past eight," she said cheerily. I nodded, still not fully awake. "Are you going to stay in your nightclothes all day, Elphie?" she inquired, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. I frowned a bit at that, before I came to my senses.

"If I don't get out of them now, I suppose I won't get out of them at all," I sighed. "Wouldn't the _Lady _Aearama love that!" I muttered under my breath.

"I heard that, you know," Nethril said, amused.

I deliberately switched to Qu'aati, swearing and muttering under my breath. I felt unreasonably disagreeable today, and I was feeling _bad_. It was like ... I froze. Could it be... I turned to Nethril, with urgency.

"Nethril? Do Elves get periods?" I asked, urgently. She frowned.

"Periods?" she echoed. I frowned.

"Yes, periods. Aunt Flow, Aunt Dot, Fred, menstruation, having the painters in, the monthly?" I asked, desperately.

Nethril's eyes lit up with recognition at the phrase, "Aunt Flow".

"Oh, I see! We usually can control when we have those, Elphie; but as a Munchkin, you got those once a month, did you not?" she asked. I nodded.

"I see. Well, as an aftereffect, you will most likely have them once every few months, for a few years yet," she said.

"Yes, yes. Do you have any rags for tomorrow?" I asked her. She winked at me.

"I am sure I can scrounge something up. Will you still be doing your lesson with Erestor today?" she asked, eyebrow arching. I nodded, wearily.

"Bad principle to let PMS get in the way of life," I said.

"PMS?" Nethril echoed, looking amused.

"Pre-menstrual Stress. Symptoms include stomach cramps, feeling very disagreeable and nearly biting everyone's heads off, food cravings and wanting to get rid of the hormone oestrogen," I said, getting into a dress.

"Ah, I see. Yes, I can get some herbs from the healers to dull the pain, but that's all," she said. I smiled slightly at her.

"Just herbs will do fine. If I bite anyone's head off, I will make sure to do so in a foreign language," I replied.

"Excellent principle. Now, come over here and let me do your hair," she ordered. I smiled, and complied. Nethril took a comb out and she began to run it through my hair.

"Your hair is truly beautiful, Elphie," she said conversationally.

"Not much more so than yours, Nethril," I pointed out, looking at her jet-black hair that had a slight wave to it.

"Ah, I'm average. But you are beautiful, Elphie."

"I can't see it," I answered truthfully. I knew Fiyero thought I was beautiful, but I didn't think so.

"You are, whether you can see it or not. You are also one of the most intelligent ellyth I've ever met, and you're the bravest. It's an honour to be your maid," she said sincerely. By the time she was done, I was a dark, dark green.

"Thank you, Nethril," I said quietly. "I know I'm not easy to look after."

She laughed at that and kissed me on the brow. "That is true, but many other ellyth are equally demanding and much more exasperating," she snickered.

"Oh, how so?" I asked.

"Well, they spend a good deal of their time in front of whichever reflective surface is available, and they're quite particular about their appearance."

"More than is usual for Elves?" I asked.

"Much more so," she said, inclining her head. "Shall we?" she asked, gesturing to the door.

"Oh, certainly."

Minutes later, I entered the classroom, and smiled, seating myself next to Erestor who was lost in thought. I tapped him on the shoulder, and his head snapped round, before he relaxed.

"Ah, my apologies, Elphaba. I did not hear you." I smiled at him.

"Do not be sorry, please. I would request a favour from you though," I said seriously.

"What might that be?" he asked.

"Can we use this time to figure out our pranks?" I asked, putting my best pleading look on.

"Of course, we can. Your Sindarin is already very good, and your history is going marvellously. I think that tomorrow, though, we have to return to our lessons," he said. I beamed, and threw my arms around him in a hug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I cried. Hesitantly, Erestor hugged me back. I stood, gathering tools and a piece of parchment.

"Right, so, first of all, let's figure out what Lady Aearama loves and hates. What does she really hate, is she really afraid of?" I asked him.

"Well, spiders and bugs. She doesn't like stains on her dresses and she is nearly obsessive about her appearance," Erestor said seriously. I grinned.

"Very well. Bearing that in mind, we can replace her perfume with either a rancid scent or one that's overpoweringly sweet. We can use honey and feathers, dye her hair or skin an unusual colour, powder that irritates her skin, replace her shampoo or conditioner with something that attracts insects, and that's all I can think of," I finished.

"The healers have an interesting ointment which is used help those with very dry skin. It has an effect also, when you put it on a doorknob, makes it incredibly slippery," he offered. My grin widened.

"Do the healers have anything that makes a person need to relieve themselves more quickly than normal?" I asked, hopefully. Erestor nodded, smiling broadly.

"Elphaba, perhaps we should go and find some of these supplies?" he suggested. I nodded eagerly, and we exited the room, with grins on our faces that should have warned the world that we were up to something.


	11. Let the Games Begin

**NO KILLING ME, PLEASE! *hides behind Elphaba and Erestor***

**Erestor: Wing Commander Arnica Vinyaya, whom I shall hereon in refer to as WCAV, does not own anything that is recognisable as the property the Tolkien Estate, and she makes no claim to any of J.R.R. Tolkien's rightful property, therefore neither she nor I can see any grounds for you suing her.**

**Elphaba: Wing Commander Vinyaya, whom I shall also refer to as WCAV, does not own anything that is recognisable as either the property of L.F. Baum or Gregory Maguire, and therefore, neither she, I, or Erestor can see any reason for suing her.**

**WCAV:Thank you, you two.**

_WARNING: Blushing ellyn *all pause, hear Lieutenant Puppet White's squeal of joy*, LOTS OF SWEARING! ALL INNOCENTS, DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER! Semantics, Elven Vaseline, oh my!_

_Note: Erestor and Elphaba sometimes call each other 'hir nin' and 'hiril nin'. This is a sort of running jest between the two._

_*grins bravely* All right, let the throwing of rotten fruit and veggies commence! ***begins dodging***_

_Translations_

_Hiril nin = My lady_

_Hir nin = My lord_

_Goheno nin = Forgive me_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_And, by the way, I do not use a thesaurus, my classmates call me Wordy Nerdy or a dictionary for a reason._

_8-8-8-_

_-e-_

I smiled at the elleth gratefully as she handed me the stuff that I wanted.

"_Hannon le_," I said.

"You are most welcome," she said politely, probably wondering why I wanted laxatives and the moisturising ointment. I nodded, and strode out the door.

"Well, _hiril __nin_?" Erestor asked, arching a brow. I held up the linen packets in triumph.

"Very well indeed, _hir nin_," I laughed. He chuckled.

"May we try and find out where the good Lady lives?" I asked hopefully. His eyes twinkled in amusement.

"That would be prudent. However, I do not know where she resides. Do you know anyone who might know?" he asked. I thought for a moment, before deciding to se my favourite plan that had been tried and tested many times in the past few months: ask Nethril.

"Yes, I just hope my informant is where I think she is," I said. "Come on!"

I walked as quickly as I could to my chambers, Erestor keeping pace by my side. I knocked on the door of my room.

"Come in!" Nethril shouted. Obediently, I opened the door and looked Nethril in the eye.

"Where does Aearama live?" I asked. Nethril's eyes narrowed.

"Are you going to kill her?" she asked. I shook my head.

"We were planning on smearing some ointment over her doorknob. Do you know where she lives?" I pressed her.

"Down the hall, three lefts, two rights, straight ahead, another right, four doors down on the left," she said, not batting an eyelid. I blinked.

"Can you write that down?" I asked. She nodded wearily, complying. A few minutes later, she handed me the sheet.

"Thanks, Nethril," I said, giving her a hug. She hugged back. "Don't forget your nap," I grinned cheekily. Then I strode out the door, and began to follow the instructions.

"Let me carry one of those things for you, Elphaba," Erestor said.

"If you're sure," I replied, shrugging, as I handed him one of the linen packets, going back to following the directions. Sure enough, three lefts, two rights, a straight, another right and four doors down on the left, was the room of Lady Aearama. I looked at it and nodded in satisfaction. It had her name and title engraved on it, which made our task so very easy. I tried the doorknob and to my surprise, it opened easily. I peeked inside: No Aearama.

_Look again, Fabala,_ Selene piped up. I complied, scanning the room, and spying this time, a figure curled up on the bed. It didn't look like Aearama, but there was only one way to find out.

"Knock, knock!" I called. The figure bolted upright, and I studied the elleth. Her hair was blonde, like Glirwing's and her eyes were a colour that hovered between green and blue.

"Who are you?" she asked, looking puzzled. I smiled her, entering the room.

"I am Elphaba, 'tis well to meet you. What is your name?"

"Gaeralph. I am the maid of Lady Aearama," she said.

"Ooh," I flinched, imagining what that would be like. I shuddered. "Tell me, do you like your Lady?" I asked her. She looked around cautiously. I strode over and put an arm around her shoulder.

"Do not fear. I do not like your Lady and will not tell her your answer," I soothed, feeling sad as I read the fear in her eyes. _So very young; just like an adolescent, afraid of the Queen of a clique,_ Selene said, seeming as sad as I.

"No, my lady. Aearama is relatively young, and has been spoiled for most of her life," the maid began. "She is demanding, and seems to take pleasure in reducing me to tears on a twice-daily or more basis. She tells me that if I complain, Lord Elrond will take my employment away and I do have to support myself. My parents and my kin have sailed," she finished. I hugged her.

"Oh, my dear girl," I sighed. "She has been lying. Lord Elrond will not take your employment away. Elrond is more compassionate and kinder than the summer days are long. You do not need to fear about him taking away your employment. If you wish, I shall have words with him on your behalf," I suggested. She shook her head, and began to try and pry herself away from my hug, but I held firm, with arms of steel.

"My lady, you should not be here. It is not for one of your station to care so much for the small troubles of a common maid," she said. I shook my head firmly.

"As a person, it is my duty to look out for my fellow people as best as I can, whether they be Elf, dwarf, man or halfling," I said, my tone brooking no argument.

It was true: People were people, and that was that. I was certainly going to have words with Lord Elrond, and propriety could go to hell; on the off chance it wasn't there already, that was. I continued:

"However, I feel obliged to tell you, that I and a friend are planning on playing pranks on the Lady Aearama. If you would be so good as to help us set them up, I will be forever in your debt," I said.

"What if she confronts me about the pranks and asks how the pranksters set them up without my knowledge?" she asked. I winked at her.

"Say you were out on an errand for her, like delivering a dirty dress to the washing ellyth. Or, better still, Aearama often says that you are a stupid elleth, correct?" I asked.

"Correct," she inclined her head.

"Say that one of her acquaintances or friends or allies, whichever term she uses, called, and must have done it whilst your back was turned," I said brightly.

"You would have me lie?" the elleth asked, her eyes widening.

"It would only be a lie if your Lady uses the term friend or ally; however, I doubt that she uses either of those terms. So, no, it would be deceptive, but not lying," I said. Eru bless semantics.

"Very well. Is there anything else I can help you with?" she asked, beginning to wriggle out of my hold. I let her.

"Yes. Do you have any gloves?" I asked her. She shook her head. "Er.. a handkerchief?" She nodded, and drew one out of a chest of drawers. I nodded and strode over to the door.

"Good. Now, put that in your pocket, so you can get out and in. Ointment, please, Erestor," I said, holding out a hand. He handed the packet over. I unwrapped the linen, and opened the jar, dipping a finger in. I smiled wickedly as I smeared it over the doorknob on the inside, rubbing it in firmly. Then, I heard footsteps approaching down the corridor. Erestor appeared inside the room.

"She's coming!" he hissed. I looked frantically around for a hiding spot, before my gaze alighted on a closet. I dashed over, and crouched down. The footsteps were coming closer.

"Come on!" I mouthed to Erestor. He nodded, before running over and crouching down beside me. Gaeralph quickly closed the door of the closet, shutting off our view. I breathed as lightly and shallowly as I could, the hairs on my neck standing up on end. I could hear Aearama's voice but I didn't try and figure out what she was saying. It had Erestor tensing, though. I swallowed, hard, and kept breathing lightly, trying very hard to ignore the tense atmosphere in the cupboard and Erestor's proximity.

Eventually, Aearama left the room and Gaeralph opened the closet. Erestor and I tumbled out, me landing on Erestor. I hurriedly stood, swallowing and giving him a hand up, going dark.

"Thank you, Gaeralph," I sighed, relieved. The other elleth smiled a rather interesting smile. I couldn't read it fully, but I gathered one thing: this elleth had inferred something that I _definitely_ hadn't.

"You are most welcome," she said, curtseying. I nodded at her, and left the room. I looked at Erestor.

"That was _close_," I sighed. He nodded.

"Is it nearly lunchtime?" I asked. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the lunch bell.

"Excellent answer. Shall we?" I asked. He took my arm, and we walked to the dining hall in amiable silence. I nodded to Erestor, and walked over to where my friends were sitting.

"Someone looks happy, in spite of Aunt Flow's visit," Nethril said.

"That would be because Aearama will have some .. _mild_ difficulties later tonight," I practically purred.

"That wouldn't have anything to do with you, of course?" Glirwing said, smiling knowingly.

"How can you say such things, Glir?" I asked, laying a mock-offended hand across my breast. "You're right, of course, though," I smirked around a forkful of salad a moment later. Glirwing chortled.

"I may regret asking this, but what did you _do_?" Celonith asked. I smiled.

"You know the ointment that is used for very dry skin?" I asked. The Elves nodded. "It also makes doorknobs very slippery," I said, innocently. Far too innocently.

Nethril's eyes widened, whilst Celonith's jaw dropped; Niphredil let out a low whistle, Glirwing clapped once in delight and Istion nodded in approval.

"You've already begun the pranks?" Nethril asked in a low tone.

"Yes," I spoke through a mouthful of meat. "Why?" I asked. Nethril jabbed me sharply in the ribs.

"Do not speak with food in your mouth, my lady. It is not becoming and is wonderful... what is that word you use? Ah yes, wonderful 'ammunition' for Aearama and her pack," she said in mild reproach. I hastily nodded, swallowed and apologised for my transgression.

"_Goheno nin, _Nethril. I forgot that they were watching," I said contritely.

"Forgiven," she said simply.

I smiled, and went back to my food, keeping my ears open.

"Istion, when do you think we should make our first move on Sidhwen?" Nethril asked.

"Tonight," he said confidently.

"What will you be doing?" I asked in a whisper.

"Two words. Perfume substitute," Nethril whispered. I smiled widely in delight.

"That's excellent!" I murmured.

"Yes; the only problem is that we do not know what to use," Nethril said in low tones.

"I can help you there," Glirwing said quickly. "After all, what better to use that the scent of sweet woodruff?" she asked.

Nethril choked on her drink, and I quickly pounded her in the back until her face looked less like a marvellous shade of puce and more normal.

"Sweet woodruff?" I asked.

"Aye; Lady Sidhwen often uses amounts of perfume that are not exactly small, you see, and sweet woodruff only needs to be dabbed once or twice on your wrists. Anymore then that, and the scent is almost overwhelmingly saccharine," she said with a distinct air of nostalgia.

I nodded, looking at my maid. "And you call _me_ evil?" I asked.

We all laughed quietly at that.

"Do not forget to frame one of the other ladies. So, Glirwing," I asked, turning to my friend. "Have you and Glorfindel decided when to start?" I asked her. She shook her head.

"No, we did not get that far. After all, whom are we targeting?" she asked. I leaned over, whispering in her ear.

"Lady Thonheril," I whispered. Glirwing smirked.

"And whom am I taking on?" asked Niphredil. I sighed.

"Are any of us extremely hungry?" I asked. The ellyth shook their heads.

"Very well. Ladies, I suggest we adjourn to a garden to discuss this further. Does anyone have any objections?" I asked them. They all exchanged glances, but shook their heads.

"Excellent. Celonith, may we ask you to choose the meeting place?" I asked her solemnly.

"My pleasure," she said, smiling. She led us out of one of the exits, and made a few sharp turns before entering a garden.

I looked around it in wonder. It was shady, filled with great trees with long, thick branches and dense canopies and the leaves gleamed more darkly than any emerald I had ever seen. We sat on a few benches under a tree, and Niphredil broke the silence.

"So, who are we targeting?" she inquired simply. I closed my eyes and recited.

"Istion and Nethril will be pranking Sidhwen. Erestor and I will be targeting Aearama. Glirwing and Glorfindel, Thonheril. Celonith and Niphredil, Lhothwen. Ringris and Saeros, Rosnen. Mithlach and Gellfuin, Mirloch. Tinuast, Sítheron, and Corechil, Glosgil. Everyone know what they're doing?" I asked, opening my eyes. They nodded.

"Just one issue: Istion's patrol do not know their targets," Niphredil said thoughtfully.

"Good point. All right, I shall tell them. Is everyone good?" I asked again. They nodded, easily. I smiled.

"Then, if you will excuse me, I have orders to give," I smiled, getting up. "Was it a right and two lefts?" I asked Celonith. She nodded, grinning broadly. I nodded, satisfied, and excused myself, almost running along the corridors. I walked into the hall, and searched the hall for Istion's patrol. After a few minutes, I found them and I sedately walked over.

"Excuse me, _mellyn_, I do not mean to interrupt," I said softly, standing behind them. Gellfuin twisted in his seat, and rose when he saw me.

"Elphaba, am I to take it that we have our orders?" he asked quietly. I nodded.

"You may. Now, you and Mithlach are targeting Lady Mirloch. Ringris and Saeros are taking on the Lady Rosnen. Corechil, Sítheron, and Tinuast are targeting Glosgil. Have you got all of that?" I informed him quietly.

He nodded.

"Excellent. Do not forget to frame it so that they suspect the other Ladies," I whispered. He nodded understanding quickly, and I smiled a little, before becoming serious again.

"Excuse me," I said. I walked unobtrusively towards the higher end of the table, where Glorfindel was seated.

"_Suilad_, Glorfindel," I quietly. The blond leapt up, and faced me.

"Elphaba?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Aye. Listen, has Erestor told you about your target?" I asked. He nodded.

"Yes, Lady.. Thonheril, wasn't it?" he asked. I nodded.

"Good ellon, good ellon. Glirwing will have to have a quick meeting with you in your study sometime before dinner. Is that all right?" I asked him briskly. He nodded.

"Excellent," I smiled.

"Would you like to sit down, Elphaba?" he asked, gesturing to a spare seat. I nodded, and slipped into it.

"Will you be back at training tomorrow?" Erestor asked. I nodded vigorously.

"Wouldn't dream of missing it," I said promptly.

"I should hope not," Erestor said. Glorfindel looked between us, seeming to burst with curiosity.

"What's all this about?" he asked.

"Erestor is teaching me the twin knives," I said smoothly.

"The twin knives?" Glorfindel queried.

"Yes. Why?"

"It is an unusual choice for an elleth," he said carefully. I grimaced; that was fast becoming one of my least favourite phrases.

"I think we have established that nearly _everything _about me is unusual, Glorfindel," I returned.

"That's certainly true. Tell me, Elphaba, do you ride?" he asked curiously. I looked at him levelly.

"The answer to that question depends upon what bears me," I replied. He rolled his eyes.

"Do you ride horses?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No, I do not," I said simply. Erestor shook his head.

"That will not do at all. Elphaba, tomorrow, with your consent, I will take you to the stables and help you select a suitable mount," he said firmly. I smiled.

"Thank you, _mellon nin," _I said. He smiled, and shrugged.

"It is my pleasure," he responded.

We talked cheerfully, quickly descending into an argument with Glorfindel over the merits of the twin knives versus a sword.

"Twin knives mean double the cleaning required than for a sword!" Glorfindel said.

"A sword is longer and harder to control," I refuted. "The more length to a weapon, the harder it can be to wield, tis my belief."

"That's as may be, but twin knives require one to have equal levels of dexterity on both sides of the body!" he pointed out.

"A fair amount people have near-ambidexterity or ambidexterity itself, often due to being naturally-left handed but being trained to use the right," I responded.

"Oh, and which hand do you use?" Glorfindel asked.

"To write, I use the right hand, but for most other tasks, I use the left," I said, shrugging.

"It is a common belief amongst humans that those who are left-handed are versed in the Black Arts, is it not?" Erestor asked. I chewed my lip for a few moments, considering, before I answered.

"Well, in Oz, sorcery was thought to be a utilitarian skill, not to be inherently sacrilegious or pagan; but in previous centuries, the left side was associated with black magic and bad luck, certainly," I said at length. "Besides which, if one is fighting with a sword, then surely one cannot hold a shield with willpower or telekinesis, unless the shield is enchanted somehow," I said.

"How does one use telekinesis, anyway? Have you ever done it?" asked Glorfindel. I looked at him.

"How did you think I directed my broom?" I asked him bluntly. He let this sink in, before he nodded comprehension.

"Anyway, you require good reflexes and control on both sides if you wish to fight with a sword and shield," I spoke. "It is the same thing with the twin knives, except that they are trained differently," I concluded.

"I still prefer a sword," Glorfindel said stubbornly. I shrugged.

"That's your prerogative," I answered. "I, conversely, will _always _prefer the twin knives to a sword," I concluded.

"What say you, Erestor? What is your favourite weapon?" Glorfindel asked.

"I am torn between my intellect and my quill," Erestor said, his grey eyes dancing with amusement.

"Your favourite weapon, Elphaba?" he asked, turning to me. I played with a bit of my hair, as I processed this.

"Well, in honesty, I am also undecided. I cannot decide whether it is intellect or instinct," I said at length.

"Both are excellent weapons in their own right; however, 'tis my belief that a balance between the two is superior to one," Glorfindel said, nodding approvingly.

"Two is better than one, or so 'tis said in Oz," I murmured. "Do either of you play chess?" I asked, raising my voice slightly.

"Aye, do you?" Erestor asked. I nodded.

"I used to, and usually lost," I answered, shrugging; I deliberately left out that I had lost on a regular basis to Frex _until_ I was fourteen. Then I beat him, more often than not.

"Indeed? Well, well, I would be interested to see how I would fare against you. Perhaps a game after dinner?" Erestor asked. I nodded enthusiastically.

"It would be my pleasure," I accepted, nodding vigorously. I glanced around the hall, checking if Lindir was still there, which he wasn't. I looked at the two.

"Forgive me, my lords, but I have to go. I have my drums," I said apologetically. They both nodded, smiling.

"We will see you later," Glorfindel said. Erestor merely nodded.

"Later," I said, rising and exiting the room. I headed over to my drums, and grinned at Lindir.

"What are we doing today?" I asked him. Lindir looked at me, thoughtfully.

"Do you know," he said thoughtfully, "I do not know there is much more I can teach you." My jaw dropped.

"Not much more to learn?" I asked, incredulously.

"No. You know and can pick up most rhythms easily and quickly. There's not much I can teach you that you have not learnt," Lindir said.

"Oh," I said, not being able to say much else. I collected my wits, and curtseyed. "I.. I thank you, Lindir, for teaching me. I hope I have been a good pupil," I said, attempting to sound grateful and coming out rather sullen. "I'm sorry if I sound petulant; it's just that I have really enjoyed the music," I hastily said. Lindir looked at me.

"You do realise that you can still practice here, do you not?" he asked.

"No, I didn't realise that, Lindir," I answered, moving behind my drums.

"Oh. Well, you can, it is just that there is no point in my supervising you," he informed me. I smiled broadly.

"_Hannon le, mellon nin_," I whispered. Lindir nodded, and then went back to his harp. I breathed in deeply, before I begun.

Skip the rest of the drums, because it will be very boring for you if I go into detail about it, since there was nothing significant and no drama. I walked back to my chambers, slipping in to find Nethril wide-awake on the bed.

"Hello, Nethril," I said, slipping in. "Do you mind if I go for a quick flight?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Not at all. How long will you be out?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Not very long. Ten minutes, or fewer," I replied, quickly changing into a black tunic and leggings. I snatched up the broom, and quickly went out to the balcony, leaping onto the broom.

"Let's go!" I whispered. I glided forward, the wind racing around me. I soared, swooped, and finally tucked myself in, pulling into a steep dive. Down, down, down, then up, before I could hit the roof of one of the houses, and forward, forward, forward. I angled up to about sixty degrees, and accelerated, until the wind whipped my skin violently blew my hair out of my face, and out of its ribbon.

"There's another ribbon gone," I grumbled.

_But this feeling's worth it, isn't it? _Selene questioned. I smiled.

_True._

I plummeted, broom still horizontal, until I hit.. I frowned, looking below. A tree? I halted, looking around; I was above the woods! I sat in silence, for a few moments, still.

"For Elbereth's sake, Arador, will you stop _smirking_!" a voice said, seeming to come from the trees.

"Arador?" I whispered, frowning. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't frickin' _place_ it!

"I am most certainly _not _smirking, _mellon nin_," an amused voice responded.

"Clearly, you have not seen your own face, then, my friend," a third voice spoke up.

_Selene? Do you know anything about these people? _I asked urgently.

_One thing: That they are friends,_ she replied. I nodded.

_Very well. Shall I hail them, or shadow them?_ I asked, wondering.

_Hmm.. hail, I think,_ she decided.

_Understood,_ I replied, beginning to fly in a circle attempting to find a clearing where I could land that was near them. I hissed in triumph as I found one, promptly going into a dive. I landed, snatched up my broom and listened.

"What was that?" one of the voices asked. I smiled, and silently walked towards it.

"_Mae govannen_," I said clearly. Moments later, I felt something freezing at my throat.

"Who are you?" the voice hissed. I blinked, looking at the person who was holding a sword at my neck.

"I am Elphaba," I answered.

"Elphaba of where?" the voice pressed.

_Say Imladris, _Selene said urgently.

_What?_

_Say Imladris! _she reiterated.

"Elphaba of Imladris," I answered finally. The sword's tip withdrew from my neck a tad but was quite close. "Who, may I ask, are you?" I asked, curiously. The three exchanged glances. I studied them; two Elves and one human. And... wait.. "Are you two twins or am I seeing double?" I asked.

"Elrohir and I are twins, milady," said the one who hadn't held a sword to my throat.

"And what is your name?"

"I am Elladan. This is our friend, Arador," said the Elf on a bay horse. I glowered in thought for a few moments, before it clicked.

"Arador, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, am I correct?" I asked. The man stiffened, but nodded slowly.

"Aye, I am," he said tersely. I made a sort of half-curtsey half-bow.

"My lord_._ And am I correct in thinking that you two are _the _Elrondions?" I asked. The two inclined their heads, Elrohir seeming to smile.

"Does our fame precede us, milady?" Elladan asked.

"More like your _infamy_ precedes you, sir," I retorted.

"She all ready has the measure of you, Elladan. You had best watch out," Arador snickered. I opened my hand for my broom, which soon came sailing in. The jaws of the males dropped.

"Please do not gape so, it is not becoming," I sighed. Three mouths shut rather hurriedly. I smiled. "Excellent. Now, are you coming to Imladris?"

"Of course, milady," Elladan said.

"May I go back with you?" I asked.

"Of course, but we do not have a spare horse," Elrohir said almost apologetically.

"Oh, I intend to fly," I said hastily.

"To.. fly?" Arador asked, smiling almost patronisingly. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Yes. Watch," I said. I let go of my broom, and rotated it through to horizontal. I easily leapt on.

"Melkor's backside!" swore one of the twins. I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily.

"For shame, boy, if you're going to curse and swear, then do it properly!" I snapped. The twin narrowed his eyes.

"And what do you know about cursing and swearing? You are an elleth!" he retorted. I smiled.

"I know plenty. If you wish, I shall colour the air a vibrant, _pulsating_ blue," I said calmly.

"Oh really? Please, do demonstrate," the ellon said smugly.

"Fuck, shit, dickhead, douche, shitty, arsehole, fuckwit, bloody ellon, frickin' shitter, bastard, dastard, rake, fuck, shit!" I cursed. The grins on the other two males' faces had been steadily growing, and by the time I got to 'bloody ellon'.. well, they were howling with laughter.

"Oh, Elrohir, your face, tis hilarious!" the other twin, Elladan presumably, howled.

"Oh, Lady Elphaba, that was astounding!" Arador said, wiping some tears from his eyes. I inclined my head.

"So, Elrohir, do you concede to my superior talent for profanity?" I asked, arching a brow. The two other males snickered. Elrohir gritted his teeth, tensing, before he smiled graciously.

"You are the better curser, Lady Elphaba," he conceded.

"Thank you, and you are undoubtedly the more gracious loser," I returned. "Which is a much harder thing to do proficiently than swear," I added.

The males smiled.

"Shall we go?" I asked. "I am afraid you will have to lead the way; I'm more used to navigating from an higher altitude."

The males nodded, and Elrohir remounted his chestnut horse. "Nice horses, by the way," I said conversationally.

"Thank you," Arador said. We started to ride and for a few minutes, we traveled in silence.

"Lady Elphaba? May I inquire about your..." Elladan seemed unsure how to phrase it.

"My skin colour?" I asked. As far as I knew, there was only one subject about me which people were unsure of how to ask about, and that was my colouring.

"Yes, my lady. I am sorry, if you do not wish to talk about it, I did not mean," he started babbling, obviously mistaking my silence for disapproval.

"Hush! Do not apologise, I would be more surprised if you did not ask about it, to be truthful. Three things you need to know. First of all, I am a Witch," I said. Frowns, raised eyebrows.

"Second of all, I am from a place that is very, very, far away. Thirdly, I was not always an Elf," I said, hoping that would satisfy them. An _incredibly_ stupid hope, by the way.

"Are you a Maia? An _Istar_?" asked Elrohir. I shook my head.

"No, I am not an _Istar_, I am a Witch and an Elf," I replied truthfully. I do have to admit to taking some pleasure from their evident befuddlement.

"But the only Wizards in Arda are Maiar from Valinor!" said Arador. I nodded.

"That is so. Now, the only _Wizards in _Arda are the Maiar from Valinor, but the only _witch_ is one from Oz," I said.

"Why do you fly on a broom?"

I sighed. This would be a long ride home.

Approximately sixteen questions and an hour and a half later, we were stabling the horses. I helped the males rub their horses down and feed them.

"Do you want to go to Elrond now?" I asked.

"Let's," Elladan said.


	12. Controlling the Chaos

_Chapter 12: Controlled Chaos_

_Please insert a line here_

_SPECIAL BEHIND-THE-SCENES FOOTAGE..._

Elphaba raised an eyebrow as her current employer carelessly dumped her schoolbag on the floor.

"Someone grumpy?" she asked.

"School, homework and my locker, like every other one in the school, is an utter bitch. Let us not forget the general difficulty in adolescence," the girl stated gloomily. Elphaba smiled in commiseration.

"Any work for us?" she asked hopefully. A mischievous, playful gleam that made Elrond and Glorfindel exchange wary glances came into the girl's eyes.

"Well, there were a few ideas I got,"Arnica began slowly. "The one I wrote most of was... well, see for yourself," she said, withdrawing a sheet from a large notebook and handing it to the elleth. The older female's eyes widened as she read it. At the end, her eyes flashed up to the girl's face. By now, the precocious teen was smiling openly at her expression.

"What the _hell_, Arnica!" Elphaba exclaimed, shaking her long, limber middle finger at the offender, her eyes narrowed to slits. Arnica's grin broadened. Erestor held out a hand for the sheet of paper and Elphaba passed it to him wordlessly. Erestor read it quickly, and his jaw dropped.

Arnica began giggling, and at this terrible omen both Elrond and Glorfindel began backing away. Both males knew from bitter experience that giggling female adolescents were signs of doom, and that this cosmic law transcended all universes and species. Admittedly, Arnica was one of the more level-headed ones, but not even she was exempt. Erestor looked at her, breathing harshly through his nose.

"You utter..." he managed at last. Arnica beamed.

"I know," she replied. "Vodka?" she asked.

"Please," Erestor said.

"On it," the teen said, heading down the stairs to the cabinet where her father's Smirnoff was kept.

_Please insert a line here_

-_e-_

I quickly excused myself from the twins and Arador when they reached Elrond's study and hurried to my chambers. I slipped inside, freezing as I heard Nethril's cool voice.

"Did you lose track of time, _hiril nin_?" she enquired. My heart sank.

_Fabala ... you're fucked, _Selene said unhelpfully.

_We're__ fucked, you mean. Thank you for stating the obvious,_ I snapped. I bowed my head and stared intently at the floor, before I gathered my resolve and looked Nethri in the eye.

"_Goheno nin, gwaleth_. I was delayed," I apologised truthfully.

_Do you have any idea of how pathetic that sounds? _

_Thank you, Selene, always so encouraging._

Nethril looked at me.

"If you come so late once again or leave without telling me, I will not hesitate to hide your broom from you."

It wasn't a threat. It was a promise, and I knew that she would also hide all other brooms in the house.

_She can't hide it if you hide it first._

"Understood, _gwaleth_," I replied at last. Nethril smiled and clapped her hands.

"Excellent! My apologies for scolding you like a child, Elphie. I know you are not truly a child, but I do worry about you so," she said. I frowned.

"When I am competent with my blades, will you be less uneasy?" I asked.

"Oh, very much so. However, as of yet, you are not competent with your blades, so I will continue to be uneasy," Nethril smirked. I shook my head, hiding a smile, as I changed back into my dress.

"Have you begun planning your wedding?" I asked. Nethril shook her head.

"Well, we need to organise your dress if you want to get married anytime soon, don't we?" I asked, opening the door.

"I suppose," Nethril conceded reluctantly. I looked at her.

"Are you having second thoughts about the wedding?" I asked, surprised. She shook her head vehemently.

"No! No, I just.." her voice trailed off. I laughed.

"My dear Nethril, I would wager that the seamstresses are positively itching to have a challenge like a wedding dress to make, and no-one, no-one, would begrudge you your wedding day," I smiled.

"Yes, but.." Nethril said, flustered.

"No buts. Now, where do we go from here?" I asked. Nethril took my hand. Five lefts and three rights later, we had arrived at the seamstresses' rooms.

"_Suilad_!" I called, knocking. The door swung open, and the elleth beamed at us.

"Fae! Nethril! How are you? Come in, come in!" she greeted us, stepping out of the entrance.

"We are well, and we have a wedding gown to design. I shall leave Nethril here, good ladies. I am sure you have a better idea of what to do than I do. Good day!" I said cheerfully, beginning to back out of the doorway.

"What?" Nethril asked incredulously. To no avail, however, for by the time she was rising from her seat, I was out the door and was running down the corridor.

"No running in the corridors!" a voice called from behind one of the doors a few minutes later. I frowned, halting.

_Was that Erestor?_ I thought. I strode over to the door where I had heard the voice, deciding to find out. I opened it, and poked my head around the door.

"Erestor? Is that you?" I asked, my eyes widening at the sight that met me. A raven-haired Elf was sitting at a desk, with papers and books stacked high in several piles on the desk.

"Aye, 'tis me. How can I help you?" he asked grumpily. I shook my head in amazement.

"Well, what is all this...paperwork?" I asked, puzzled.

"Intelligence reports, accounts ledger and totals, administration, petitions and requests," Erestor rattled off, staring gloomily at the pile of papers which now seemed very daunting.

"May I help you?" I asked politely, suddenly feeling very guilty about my idleness.

"Thank you, but that is not necessary," he lied, most unconvincingly.

"Bullshit. I am helping you," I said, promptly going into my stubborn mode. Erestor smiled grudgingly, and pointed to the stack nearest to me.

"That is the account pile. I trust you can handle it?" he asked, arching a skeptical eyebrow. Clearly, he did not trust that at all. I smiled.

"I will manage," I answered. "Pen, please?" Erestor shoved me a bottle of ink and a quill. "Thank you."

I took the enormous ledger, and opened it, flicking past the previous dates and opening to today's.

"Does the setting out of the arithmetic matter?" I enquired.

"You can do it however you like as long as it adds up correctly," Erestor answered. I nodded, and set about adding up the total of the wages for the maids, servants, stablehands and cooks. I was soon done, and I looked at the stack of paper, which was significantly less frightening. I began to repeat the process several more times, methodically working away at the accounts, which I discovered were fairly easy. At last, I finished the pile of paperwork and I frowned. Erestor still had three piles of paperwork that were left to do.

"What else would you like me to do?"

"Hmm? You have done the accounts?" he asked.

"Yes. You really ought to delegate, you know," I remarked. Erestor shot me a look filled with sardonic amusement.

"And why, pray tell, would I do that?" he asked. I frowned.

"Because, _hir nin_, I do not have to be Eru himself to see that this is far too much work for one Elf," I said archly.

"And prove Aglareryn's rumours correct?" came the swift retort.

"There is no shame in not being entombed in paper!" I sassed, my patience beginning to fray.

"I am not an incompetent! I can manage this!" Erestor insisted. I shook my head vehemently.

"No-one could possibly call you an incompetent, Erestor, but you would need to gain godlike powers to do all of this paperwork by yourself," I said firmly.

"I do not want your help," Erestor growled, his furious gaze meeting mine.

"Then, tough shit! I am helping you," I declared, reaching for the topmost paper on the next stack. Erestor grabbed for it, but I gripped it tightly.

"Mine!" he cried, tugging it.

"No, mine!" I shot back, trying to wrench the sheet from his clutch without tearing it.

"Mine!"

"Mine!"

"Mine!"

"Mine!" I roared, finally wresting the document unharmed from his grasp, rocking back in the chair. "Oh shit," I swore, as I felt it fall backwards. I blinked a few times from my position on the floor.

"Are you all right, Elphaba?" Erestor's face, now anxious, looked at me.

"Never better," I grunted, rolling to my feet and pulling up the chair.

"My apologies," Erestor said, almost sheepishly. I nodded in acknowledgement of his apology.

"Forgiven, but I am to blame as well. I did provoke you."

"No, you did not. I thank you for your assistance, Elphaba, but would you be so kind?" he gestured towards the door. I shook my head and looked towards the door.

_You know, a gentlemen may refuse a friend's offer of help, but they are honour-bound to accept a request from a lady, _Selene whispered. I frowned, thinking. Erestor was my friend... My eyes widened as realisation dawned. Erestor was my friend, but I was a lady. I grinned, and then carefully put on my now thoroughly developed 'Lady mask'.

I turned around and silently walked to the chair, careful to not stride, but take smaller steps. I sat down, placing my hands in my lap. I took one and laid it gently on Erestor's arm.

"Please, Erestor. Let me help you," I whispered.

"Elphaba, I can handle it!" he cried, his face jerking up and looking me straight in the eye.

"Shh," I said, pressing a finger to his lips. His eyes widened, and I leaned in close to his face, over the desk. Inches away from his face, I smiled a little flirtatiously.

"Did you not know," I breathed. "That it is rude to refuse a lady?"

I could feel my pulse speeding up and I was certain that I was going a shade that would make oak trees envious.

_Someone's skittish,_ Selene drawled.

_Shut up!_

For a few more moments, Erestor and I were silent. We breathed in unison, and I tried to meet his piercing stare boldly.

"Aye, so it is," Erestor sighed at last. "Very well. I will allow you to help me, but I will not allow anyone else!" he said firmly. I allowed a triumphant smile to spread across my face, and I leaned back in my chair.

"Thank you, my friend. That means a lot to me," I said sincerely. Erestor and I swung around as we heard the knocks.

"Come in," Erestor called. The door swung open and the twins entered.

"Erestor, are we interrupting something?" Elladan asked.

"Not at all, Elladan," Erestor said smoothly. "What brings you here?"

"We have been hearing some very interesting rumours," Elrohir said brightly. "We have come to find out the truth."

"Shall I go? I am sure that Nethril will be wondering where I am. I shall see you at dinner, my lords," I said rapidly, not waiting for an answer.

"If you could just wait outside, Elphaba, Elrohir and I would be most obliged," Elladan said courteously. I inclined my head and rose, walking out and sitting outside. I put an ear to the door, but I couldn't hear anything, much to my disappointment. I sighed and closed my eyes.

-3-

Erestor looked levelly at his former protegés. "Please begin when you are ready," he said. Elrohir nodded, and then began, choosing his words with a great deal of care.

"There were several rumours that cast aspersions upon Lady Elphaba's honour, or rather, the perceived lack thereof," the elder twin began cautiously. Erestor nodded.

"All fabrications. Continue," he said. Elladan took over.

"Then, there were four about her relationship with you. The first is that you are secretly betrothed, or secretly married. The second is that you and she are engaging in a somewhat immoral dalliance. The third, that you are passionate lovers. The fourth, that she is your long lost sister, who was lost in Gondolin," he finished. He looked at his friend inquisitively.

"Out of curiosity, Erestor, how many of those have the faintest element of truth to them? None?" Elrohir asked curiously. Erestor nodded.

"Yes, Elrohir. You are correct. Is there anything else I can do for you?" he enquired, ignoring his thoughts which decided to replay the scene that occurred just before his former pupils had walked in.

"No, I think that is all. Thank you, Erestor," Elladan said, rising. Erestor nodded.

"Are you staying more than the night?" he asked.

"Elrohir and I were planning to. Arador will be riding out to meet a group of Dúnedain tomorrow," Elladan answered. Erestor nodded again.

"Very well. Tell Elphaba to come in on your way out, please," he added. Elrohir nodded, not turning around. Erestor shook his head.

"Honestly, the things people will believe," he chuckled under his breath.

-e-

I settled back down into the chair.

"Those ellith will soon become unbearable," I spoke.

"I thought you said they were not bothering you much?" Erestor questioned. I threw a weary look his way.

"Nethril has me doing embroidery, Erestor. I think I can say that this is fast becoming bothersome," I replied, rubbing my brow. "Do you think the twins would be willing to help?" I asked suddenly. Erestor hummed a little in thought.

"Probably. If Arador had planned to stay longer, we might have been able to persuade him to help as well," he mused. I looked at him, startled.

"Arador? That quiet fellow?" I exclaimed.

"The quiet ones are usually the most dangerous, as I recall," he smirked.

"True. Anyway, perhaps the twins can come up with alibis for those of us who are most likely to be the top suspects?" I suggested.

"Alibis?" Erestor queried.

"It really doesn't end," I said flatly as I began wracking my brain for a good definition. "Account of a person's whereabouts, and the things they were doing at the time, that sort of thing," I explained. Erestor smiled wryly.

"Aye, the twins will be excellent at that. They dodged their lessons the majority of the time, and not once were they caught with their leggings down, so to speak."

"Excellent." We sat in silence for some minutes, until the dinner bell rang. I glanced distastefully at the paperwork.

"Let's do some work on those tomorrow, instead of choosing a mount. My learning to ride a horse is not urgent, anyway," I said.

"Tomorrow," Erestor concurred. "Shall we?" he gestured to the door. I nodded, and rose, laying a hand on his arm as protocol dictated.

"I think you had ought to sit with Glorfindel and I tonight," he said quietly.

"Why?" I asked, in a low voice.

"If I know the Elrondions, they will have at least twenty questions," Erestor said wryly.

"Ah, I see," I murmured. We slipped in and I sat down, sandwiched neatly between Erestor and Glorfindel, near the Elrondions and Arador. I nodded politely in greeting at the males, noticing with wry amusement that the nearest source of oestrogen beside myself was several feet away from me.

I ate in silence, not wanting to have to pause to answer questions. Thankfully, it turned out I didn't have to. After I finished, Arador coughed discreetly. I looked at him.

"Ask your questions, _hir nin_." Arador looked a bit sheepish, realising that his intent had been rather transparent.

"How did you come to Imladris?" Elladan enquired.

"I do not know."

"What is Oz like?" Elrohir asked.

"Ask me when you have several days free. It takes some time to describe in full."

"You have no second name?" Elrohir noted.

_Oh, dear stars, this is going to be difficult, _Selene sighed.

_Tell me something I __**don't**__ know._

"Of course. Forgive my discourtesy, my lords. My second name is Thropp."

"Thropp?" Arador asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

"In Oz, our naming customs are like those of the Shire folk," I answered at length.

"What would your second name be in Elvish, I wonder?" Erestor asked under his breath. I chewed my lip in thought.

"Hmm. Excellent question. Well, what's the closest to Daughter of the Wandering Zealot?"

Erestor hummed in thought. "Thalarandiel?" he offered. I winced.

"Daughter of the Dragon?"

"Amlugiel."

"Daughter of the Wizard?" I forced out.

"Ithroniel," he said. If he was at all surprised, he didn't show it. I nodded.

"Ithroniel would probably be the most accurate," I sighed. "Much as it pains me to call the bastard my father," I grumbled in a low tone. Erestor looked keenly at me.

"It was not the fault of your mother. You know Frex was rarely with her, and she had her needs," Erestor said softly, guessing my thoughts.

I laughed bitterly at that, switching to Qu'aati, while in the back of my mind, I wondered how an Elf of such purity understood. The Elrondions and Arador wisely decided not to speak.

"She had needs, but one would have thought that she had some self-control too! If she had only exercised it, then I would have not been born, and Oz would have been an happier place, were it not for me!"

Erestor scowled darkly at me, before he switched to Qu'aati. "If it were not for you, the Animals would have been oppressed!"

"The cell would have found someone else to kill Madame Morrible; there would have been a Wicked Witch of the West, anyway!" I replied, patience beginning to wear thin.

"They would not have and there would not have been. You were the only candidate," he said.

"Yes, and look what destruction my good intentions brought!" I almost spat.

"Perhaps this pertinent truth escaped your notice, but sociopolitical changes usually do bring some measure of destruction or chaos. The greater the change, the greater the chaos," he spoke, voice softening towards the end.

I couldn't think of anything to say after that, so I kept silent. After the last of the meal was cleared away, Erestor turned to me.

"Chess?" he asked.

"Fine."

We adjourned to his study. Once there, he retrieved the chessboard from a shelf, and placed it on the coffee table.

"Sorry about my outburst earlier. It was childish," I said at length, blushing at the memory. Erestor smiled slightly.

"It is not your fault. In Oz, you were always rejected. It's quite natural that you should feel some subconscious self-loathing. you feel responsible for the damage that the change wrought, you said. And yet, you do not feel proud of the good things that have come of that change and damage?" he asked. I laughed mirthlessly.

"What good things?"

"Perhaps they had not happened when you were alive in Oz, but I swear to you, Elphaba, that you have made a difference."

"Fate hates me," I reminded him. He waved an hand, dismissing the fact.

"Irrelevant. Not even the worst of tragedies are so bad that they are superficial. The very purpose of these tragedies, surely, is so that they may bring about change," he said. I looked at him.

"Please tell me you are not talking about romantic tragedies. I am fed up to my back teeth with them!" I pleaded. He shrugged.

"I am not." At my skeptical glare, he relented a little. "Not solely about romantic tragedy, at least. I am quite sure that the Battle of Dagorlad and the destruction of Gondolin count as tragedies, and that is not even mentioning the Kinslayings."

"True," I nodded. "Shall we?"

"Ladies first."

Half an hour later, I surveyed the board with a chagrined expression.

"Stalemate?" I asked.

"Stalemate," replied my opponent, apparently as disgruntled as I. I growled.

"Do you want a rematch tomorrow?" I asked, hopefully.

"Perhaps not. After all, tomorrow we have much to do, and little time to do it in," he said.

"Yes," I agreed, before my hand flew up to hide a yawn. "I had best retire," I spoke, getting up.

"Would you like me to escort you?" he enquired, rising.

"I believe I would like that, Erestor," I smiled, rising. We exited his study and talked quietly as I retraced my footsteps to my chambers.

"Training at dawn?" I asked.

"Yes. Same as always. Good night, Elphaba," he said at my door.

"Good night, Erestor. Sweet dreams!" I said. Then I quickly kissed him on the cheek, before I slipped inside, and shut the door.

If only I had seen the look on his face...

-e-

I woke up as Nethril bustled about the room, and I grumbled began waking up

"Good morning, Elphie! I trust Erestor took care of you last night?" she asked pleasantly.

"Nnnnngh," I groaned, as I swung my feet off the bed, and sat down on the floor. I accepted the tray, balancing it on my lap. I raised a brow at the light green concoction, which I sniffed. I nearly choked. It was terrible. I took a deep breath, pinched my nose, and threw my head back, downing the vile liquid in one gulp.

"Oh, yuck!" I said, grimacing at the disgusting aftertaste. I began munching down my food, and I glanced at her.

"Did you manage to find any rags?" I asked, hopefully. Nethril smiled at me, her eyes laughing.

"There is a rag in your leggings on the bed, and I shall show you how to use it with a dress after your training." I wolfed down the last few mouthfuls and leapt up, hugging her.

"Hannon le, gwaleth," I whispered. She smiled at me.

"Get dressed."

I obediently complied, and began to strap on my knives with Nethri's assistance. I seized my broom and I looked at Nethril. "Do you want to come?"

She shook her head fervently.

"Suit yourself," I shrugged. And with that, I settled the broom under me and I took off. I shot forwards, and the valley and sky around me became a single blur of dazzling colours; the rising of optimistic yellow, the tranquility of the mauve, and the sheer brilliance of the reflections of Arien's rays on the water. For a few more moments I indulged in the exhilaration, before I reined in to a steady glide that allowed for a more detailed scrutiny of the valley. My eyes scanned the landscape and I gave a shout of triumph when I spotted my destination. I glided until I was nearly overhead the armoury. I shifted to the left until I was clear. I took a deep breath, sat up straight, tightened my grip to a stranglehold, and dropped like a millstone. The broom stopped at six feet up, and I slid off.

"Suilad," Erestor said softly.

"Suilad," I replied, following him to a spot that was further away from the armoury.

I unsheathed my knives in one smooth movement, settling into a ready stance. Erestor had all ready unsheathed his blades. He began to prowl forward, circling warily. I locked gazes with him, my body turning with his. He made his move then, spinning in with blades still, before he stopped spinning and forced me into survival mode. I panted as I tried to parry and block his strokes. The only sounds of the spar were my gasps for air, Erestor's steady breathing, the clang as our blades clashed together and the whispering as we disengaged them. About five minutes later, I was breathing hard, my face covered in sweat, cheeks a gleaming jade, and with one of Erestor's knives at my jugular, the flat of the other knife against my ribcage. Erestor grinned, before he sheathed his blades. He nodded approvingly.

"Well done."

I looked at him in disbelief after I had regained my strength. "Well done? I couldn't last five minutes! I couldn't even parry your blows!"

"I would not have expected you to. I have been doing this since I was an Elfling, whereas you started a few days ago. Now, let me show you how to block those strokes," he answered smoothly.

And so it went on. I got the crap beaten out of me, but Erestor assured me at the end that I was improving. I thanked him, and then got back on my broom, flying back.

"I'm back," I called as I pushed my way through the balcony door.

Please insert a line here

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sorry this is so late, but school's been killing me. There are three weeks until the holidays and five assessments. Please, guys, just cut me some slack. Please.


	13. Diplomatic Deception

Chapter 13: Diplomatic Deception

For two months, we continued with our pranks. Much to our delight, our plan was working: Erestor and Glorfindel and several other ellyn were freed from the admiration of Aearama's followers. Many ellith who had been antagonised by them were also relieved, and much to my amusement, the strife in the clique had led to the ladies compounding our efforts by playing their own pranks on each other.

My sparring sessions with Erestor had continued until I began to hold my own, and could even disarm him a few times. Not many, but a few.

Now, one day in the month of Girithron, or December as you would call it, there were was an incident which was noteworthy to me at least.

It began like this...

-e-

I leapt off the broom and was startled by Erestor handing me a pair of knives. He smiled as I looked at them in bemusement.

"But I brought my knives..." my voice trailed off.

"Happy Yuletide. Look at them," he urged. Less confused, I complied, drawing one of the blades from its scabbard. My eyes widened and I sucked my breath in sharply in awe.

Flowers, vines and to my wonder, thorns were engraved in the blade; they were entwined with a sentence in elegant script. I read the sentence, a smile curving my lips. _The world is shaped by those who stand up._

At the base of the blade, before the hilt, was a tiny engraving of a broom.

"Thank you, Erestor," I said quietly.

"It was my pleasure. So are you going to stare at them all day, or am I to be honoured with a spar?" he enquired. I growled playfully at him, and unsheathed the other blade, twirling it in a warrior's salute before falling into a ready stance.

Erestor stepped forward slowly, smiling in a manner that was almost predatory. A shiver ran down my spine as I saw it and met his eyes. He dashed in, spinning and I parried easily, the blades perfectly moulded to my grip. Erestor tried the hit-and-run style several more times before he switched tactics and began fighting at close quarters. I was painfully aware that the colour in my cheeks wasn't entirely due to the spar's intensity. Eventually, I managed to wriggle under his guard and disarm him. I stepped back and saluted. He smiled and retrieved his blades before he returned it.

After another two spars, we turned to knife-throwing, which was always entertaining. As I began flinging my daggers into the targets, I contemplated Erestor's gift and ways I could show my gratitude.

The rest of the morning was devoted to tackling the perpetual amount of paperwork. We split it two ways, Erestor handling the diplomatic and borderline military papers while I took care of household administration. We worked silently and efficiently, apart from the occasional snort or chuckle from Erestor. I sighed as I finished of the last of the accounts.

"Elphaba? Can you take a look at this for me?" Erestor asked. I held out my hand for the sheet and he handed it over. I scanned its contents.

_Hir Elrond Eärendilion, hail,_

_It would give the king great pleasure if you were to attend the wedding celebration of his eldest daughter, Eleniel Thranduiliel. The ceremony is due to be held in early spring. Please respond soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Thalion, on behalf of King Thranduil._

_Seneschal of Greenwood the Great_

"Rather pompous, in a subtle way," I observed, handing it back to him. "Apart from that, I cannot see anything remarkable. What about it?"

"Nothing so much apart from the fact it is so..." he trailed off, searching for a word.

"Haughty?" I supplied. He nodded, before he rose.

"Come. Let us go to Elrond," he said. He walked over to part of his study which was covered in tall panels. He pushed aside one of those, which revealed a long passage.

"Short cut?" I enquired, entering.

"Something like that," he replied, entering also and closing the panel behind him. He led me along the passage, and at the end he rapped out an call. Ta-tatata-ta!

Erestor handed Elrond the sheet after we had seated ourselves. Elrond happened to be sipping a cup of tea while he read it, and so when he began chuckling, he also shot the tea out of his nostrils. He wiped at them with a handkerchief.

"Ah, Thranduil," he sighed. "He is so pompous that it really is funny. I suppose we cannot allow it though, can we?"

"If we did, _hir nin_, it would be a grave affront to the Noldor," Erestor answered gravely.

"What do you suggest, then? That we not go?"

"No, indeed not, _hir nin_! That would be excessive indeed," Erestor exclaimed. "No, I suggest that you send a delegation."

"Very well," Elrond replied agreeably. "Who do you want?"

"I would like to go myself," Erestor began.

"Naturally," Elrond concurred.

"I would like to take Nairon, as well. I should also like to take Elphaba," Erestor continued.

"You do not want to take Glorfindel?"

"As tempting as that is, I think I had better not," Erestor answered.

"Wait, back up a bit, please," I interrupted. "Did you say that you were going to take me? On a diplomatic trip?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes," Erestor said bluntly.

"I see."

"And when does the delegation have to leave?" Elrond asked.

"Early spring."

-e-

Winter passed, and with the arrival of spring came the departure of Imladris. At dawn, a week into spring, we bade farewells to Lord Elrond. Our party consisted of Nairon, Erestor, I, Nethril and an escort of twelve ellyn. Nethril had insisted on accompanying me, much to the irritation of Istion and myself. A few minutes before the others mounted their horses, I took off, having already said my goodbyes.

I glided above the tree-line, staying at a slow pace. Eventually, the woods thinned out, and I began scanning the ground. I narrowed my eyes at what appeared to be a group of moving, coloured dots. I smirked, and dived for maybe seventy feet, before I stopped and resumed my glide. I saw one of the party glance up, and nod once at me. I returned the gesture curtly. We kept at a steady pace until it was noon.

One of the party dropped to the back, and halted, before waving exaggeratedly. I dropped like a stone, and stopped when I was level with the rider, who informed me that we would soon be stopping for a quick meal.

We ate quickly and I remounted the broom. I angled the broom up and shot off, revelling in the roar of the wind in my ears. In the air, I felt at home; it was one of the few places where I could either properly forget about any worries or sort them out properly.

We stopped about an hour before dusk, and we set up the tents. Nethril and I were sharing a small one and the ellyn had two large tents to themselves. For the next week and day, we proceeded as planned. It was on the ninth day that we encountered some trouble.

We were just past the borders of Greenwood. I was flying at ground level, when the escort tensed, halted and unsheathed their weapons. I leapt off, and hurriedly ordered Nethril to get on the broom, so that we did not have to worry about her in the fight, and the broom to bear her. To Nethril's enormous credit, she did not protest and handled the take-off admirably. She had a very set expression, but I quickly dismissed that.

I withdrew my knives and padded up beside Erestor. He looked grimly at me, and nodded. I listened intently, and began hearing rustling in the woods. Seconds later, about six spiders burst outburst out of the undergrowth. I half-relaxed. I had been expecting much worse. The spiders were quickly decimated by the escort, who had insisted on forming a barrier between us and the spiders. I looked flatly at the corpses of the arachnoids, before looking up. Sure enough, Nethril was hovering above us. I waved at her, beckoning madly. She seemed to get the gist of the gesture, and dropped. She got off, paling when she saw the corpses. I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. The guards were soon finished cleaning their blades. None of the ellyn were wounded, much to our relief, and soon we were back in the saddle, continuing our trip.

The rest of the trip passed without incident, and on the eighteenth day of our trip, we reached our destination.

We stopped a few miles away from the caves, to make ourselves presentable, which took about three hours; this may seem a preposterous amount of time, but, reader, when you take into account that we had to dismount the horses and rub them down as well as watering them adequately, set up the tents, groom ourselves, change clothing, dismantle the tents and remount, surely it is not so extraordinary.

The king was waiting in the nearest thing his cavern palace had to a courtyard. He was waiting with his wife, Queen Lenfaer, their three children, and about twelve courtiers and advisors. We came to a halt at a respectful but not submissive distance from the royalty and accompanying nobility. I was the only one not on horseback, having walked from when the caves came into sight.

Erestor had explained the night before, in counsel with Nairon and myself, that to fly in on a broom would look like we were blatantly flouting the king's wishes and sensibilities. Apparently, the Sindar were as good (or, more accurately, as bad) as the next culture at accepting differences, I was:

a) A stranger,

b) Green-skinned and

c) Different.

While the Sindar had to accept and accommodate these facts lest they be viewed as discourteous, the broom would have been a several steps over the line.

Thus, while all others were mounted and Nethril and the escort practically itched to dismount, I merely shifted more of my weight into my broom which I had been using as a staff.

"Welcome, my lords and ladies," the king intoned. Erestor and Nairon inclined their heads, and I followed their lead.

"Hail, Thranduil Oropherion, king of Greenwoood the Great," Erestor replied. Thranduil scanned our party.

"Three I count, with twelve guards and a maid. I hope you did not have any troubles on your way here?" he asked.

"We had a small encounter with a few spiders, but nothing that was too major. None of our party was injured, thank Elbereth," Nairon answered.

"Indeed. But tell me, where is Lord Elrond?" Thranduil asked.

_He's abominably rude to keep the others on their horses for so long!_ I thought, fiercely.

_True, true._

"Forgive us, your majesty," I spoke up. "We had forgotten! Our Lord Elrond bade tell you that one of his sons is injured quite grievously, and although he is starting to recover, it is still bad. He bade us tell you that he sends his regards and compliments to the royal House of Oropher, and his warmest congratulations to Princess Eleniel."

The king's eyes seemed to narrow, but he did not show anymore emotion than that. The queen, however, earned instantly my eternal respect and no small amount of gratitude. She cast a glance at her husband, taking in his mood in a nanosecond, before distracting him with details.

"That is terrible news indeed," she cried. "My lords and lady, would you be able to tell us which son?"

"I believe it was Elrohir. Thankfully, our Lord assured us that he was past the worst of it," Erestor took over smoothly.

"Thank Elbereth for that," Nairon murmured. There were murmurs of agreement among the royal family. I let it continue for a few moments. Unfortunately, my patience, all ready paper-thin, snapped.

I coughed, and the royalty looked at me. I discreetly gestured to the rest of the party, who by now, were looking very uncomfortable indeed.

"Your pardon, my lords and lady," Thranduil cried. "I had not realised my gross discourtesy. Please, dismount. Queen Lenfaer, would you be so good as to take care of our guests?"

"Of course, your majesty," the queen smiled. The king bowed, as did the two princes, and quickly strode out of the courtyard, accompanied by all save one of the courtiers.

The queen smiled warmly at us all, before turning to the walls of the courtyard, and making some sort of gesture. Several grooms seemed to materialise, and make a beeline for the horses, before leading them away with such grace and smooth speed I couldn't believe.

"Morgu, Eredulus, would you be so good as to show the escort where there quarters are?" the queen called. Two ellyn promptly appeared, and led the escort to their quarters.

The queen then made one last gesture, and three maids appeared, splitting up into something that looked akin to an hunting formation, one taking hold of Erestor, the other Nairon, and another Nethril.

The queen smiled and seized my by the arm.

"I am so sorry, I do not know your name," she began apologetically.

"I am Elphaba, my lady," I murmured quietly. I liked the queen, but she was so exuberant and bright, it really was astounding.

"Elphaba? That is a beautiful name, although I am not familiar with its meaning."

I chuckled at that. "It doesn't have any meaning in particular, my lady. May I ask though, one thing?"

"Of course."

"Why are you not stunned at my appearance?" I asked bluntly. The queen paused and looked at me, pursing her lips.

"Should I be?" she asked shrewdly.

"I would prefer if you were not, but everyone else seems so very taken aback," I answered.

"Ah! I see. Well, in answer to your question," she said, resuming her pace. "I am not sure, but if there is one thing in this world I cannot stand, it is social stigma. I do not know, but it simply enrages me. So, I do my best to minimise it," she explained.

"That explains it," I mumbled.

"Indeed. I hope your apartment will be to your liking, Lady Elphaba," she said, as she opened a door. I stepped through it, and looked at it. There was a nicely sized sitting room, adjoined to the bedroom. I poked my head into the bedchamber, and my eyes widened. There was a good-sized desk, several tapers at various points, and a beautiful bedstead. I withdrew my head and smiled broadly at the Queen.

"Thank you, your majesty," I said sincerely. She smiled gently at me.

"It is no trouble, Lady Elphaba. May I please have a word with you?" I inclined my head, and gestured for her to sit.

She sat and folded her hands in her lap.

"May I ask, first of all, that in private we drop the formalities?" she asked.

"I would like that.. Lenfaer."

"Thank you. Secondly, I would just like to ask you a question," she replied, rising and shutting the door.

"What would that be?"

"Lord Elrond," she began, sitting down again. "I shall not tell anyone, I merely want to know. Lord Elrohir. He is not wounded, is he?" My eyes narrowed.

"Lenfaer, I have all ready given you an answer to that." She smiled at me sadly.

"I did not really expect you to. I take my leave."

I sighed and rubbed my brow, as soon as the queen was out of the door. I closed my eyes. Perhaps a little rest might help...

_-e-_

_I looked around the clearing I found myself in. I stepped over to the an oak, and sat down, the snow crunching in token protest as I moved. The air I breathed was crisp and pure._

_"All right," I muttered under my breath. "I'm clearly not having an out-of-body experience. But this doesn't seem to be an ordinary dream, either."_

_**"Correct."** With that one word, a leopard prowled into the clearing. It looked at me, meeting my gaze steadily. There was intelligence and sentience in that gaze, more than what was found in normal animals. Its tail twitched, but it seemed to be more from an inability to stay completely still, rather than nervousness. I looked at it for a few more moments before I opened my mouth._

_"Who are you?"_

_The leopard bared its teeth in an animal grin._

_**"Come on, Fabala, don't you recognise me?"** The voice seemed to come from the leopard. I frowned._

_"Selene?" I asked, hesitantly. The leopard rolled its eyes, nodding._

_**"Give the girl a prize! Yes, none other."**_

_"Right. May I ask..."_

_**"Yes?"**_

_"Forgive my bluntness: What the hell?"_

_**"I beg your pardon?"**_

_"No need for you to beg, I shan't give it! What the __hell__ were you lying to me for?" I snapped, breathing heavily._

_**"I have not lied to you!"** the leopard snapped indignantly._

_"Oh? You were just manipulating me for your own ends, you mean!" I snarled._

_**"WHAT are you talking about?"** the leopard asked angrily._

_"YOU KNEW I WOULD GET HURT!" I screamed, leaping to my feet. "When I first got onto the broom, you KNEW the Valar didn't know!"_

_**"Of course I did!"** it roared._

_"I thought you were my friend!" I shouted, feeling hurt well up inside of me. The leopard looked at me. I sighed, the charge of energy that had seared through me during those fleeting moments gone, fizzling out. "Can you open your mouth to speak?" I asked, tiredly._

_**"What?"**_

_"Oh, please. It's a tad unsettling when someone's talking to you but isn't using sign language, their mouth, or writing it down!"_

_**"You've had worse."**_

_"Which doesn't mean I have to adore unsettling experiences, even if I'm practically a professional at coping with them!" I snapped._

_**"True. But on a leopard, would that not look a bit..."** the leopard seemed at a loss for words._

_"Preposterous? Fine, change forms."_

_**"As you wish..."**_

_The leopard transformed itself into Miss Pfannee._

_"Not funny!" I shouted, stabbing an accusing finger at the ditz/leopard._

_"It was not intended to be, although I will admit to finding your reaction somewhat entertaining. Very well, if you want me to pick a more apt form," it sighed._

_My breath caught in my throat. The elleth was stunning. Its...no, her locks were ebony, her eyes misty grey, and her skin white. But there was another thing, this giving me pause. She glowed, shining unadulterated silver and white, radiating an aura of power, purity and supernatural strength that I could not help but be in awe of._

_"Your name is not Selene," I said after a while. A smile quirked her lips._

_"No," she agreed. "It is not."_

_"What is it?" I asked. Her smile widened._

_"I have many names, my young friend. Just like you."_

_"I stand corrected. What are __they__?" I asked, refusing to be deterred by the playful evasion._

_She pointed her index finger skyward._

_I frowned, complying with the implicit order. There was the tree canopy, but I highly doubted that this was Yavanna or one of her Maiar. After all, they surely would not have chosen a Noldorin form._

_"Indeed, they would have chosen a Sindarin or Silvan form," she agreed._

_Stars... billions of them, punctuating the sky like beautiful, finely wrought diamond and mithril droplets._

_"Elbereth?" I attempted, my brows flying up._

_"Close, but not quite. Try going down a step or two," she said cryptically. I scowled in thought, before I snapped my fingers._

_"Illmarë!" I shouted._

_"Yes, indeed."_

_"Wait... __the__ Illmarë?" I asked._

_"Yes..."_

_"The same that is the guardian of the stars, handmaiden of Elbereth, and equal in power to Ëonwe, surpassed only by Eru and the Valar?" I asked._

_"Yes, __that__ Illmarë," she said. It was a confirmation and a prompt._

_"Is the annoying voice that keeps conversing with me in my head?" I finished. She chuckled._

_"No."_

_"What?"_

_"I am much more than an annoying voice in your head. I watch over you, guide you, test your limits."_

_"Like a mentor?" I asked._

_"Something like that," she replied dryly._

_"So...just out of sheer curiosity, why did I have to get on the broom?" I asked._

_Illmarë smiled._

_"It went something like this..."_

_"To watch over you is a fairly strenuous task. Eru himself entrusted it to me, after muttering something about a bloodthirsty female who would not hesitate to rip out his entrails. So, for the first time in millennia, I found myself having to multitask. This is the kind of skill that fades easily and quickly without you knowing it. It didn't take long for Queen Elbereth to find out that something was afoot, but Eru had not instructed me to tell anyone. So, I placed matters into your hands. And it worked out perfectly."_

_"Even though I spent three weeks after that hurting?"_

_"Indeed. You are made of stern stuff, Fabala."_

_"Thanks. Anyway, was there any particular reason that you wanted me here?" I asked her. She inclined her head, and came forward. She placed her hand on my forehead._

_"Relax," she whispered softly. "Let me in."_

_I obeyed, and closed my eyes, my jaw dropping in shock. Eventually, after the images had stopped flashing through my mind, I opened them._

_"I do not understand," I stated._

_"You, in Oz, were a manifestation," Illmarë began. "You represented Change over time, Kumbricia, your mother, being Change, your father, the Dragon, being Time. As such, your powers and life reflected it."_

_"What powers?" I interrupted. Illmarë rolled her eyes._

_"Reality warping, the ability to read the Grimmerie, and your personality," she answered patiently._

_"How is my personality a power?" I asked._

_"You put standing up for what matters first. You don't see how unusual that is? All your life, you were rejected. But you never stopped standing up for justice, even though the whole structure usually came crashing down on you. You were insecure, but at your deepest level, you __knew__ that you weren't going to be happy. Most other people couldn't face that kind of knowledge and still do what you did."_

_"I can't say that I believe you, but I'm getting a bit sick of having my ego massaged. Please continue," I said._

_"You also were just different," she said bluntly. I blinked._

_"Pardon?"_

_"Glinda was powerful by blending, biding her time... she was normal, and had honed those intuitive skills to a fine art. You were powerful because you could knock people off-kilter just by being you," she explained._

_"Sort of following you. Life, how did my life reflect that?"_

_Illmarë looked sadly at me. "Listen to Erestor, my friend. Your life was terrible. Upheaval and change isn't pleasant while it lasts. The changes don't happen for a while. And when they do, they benefit everyone but the person who puts the change into effect. But someone has to make change happen. In this case, it had to be you."_

_I nodded. "Apart from a dramatic dénouement, you didn't really have a reason for dragging me here?"_

_"Only to tell you this: Be well. You will be important in this world, though not as obviously as many others. And do not forget that just because you were fairly miserable in Oz, doesn't mean you have to be miserable here."_

_"Thanks. Anything else?"_

_"No. Just trust me and listen to me when I speak. I will look after you."_

_-e-_

I was woken by a teasing voice. "Time to wake up, O radiant blossom," Erestor announced, shaking me gently. I shook my head, before grimacing.

"Ouugh. I think I have a crick in my neck," I mumbled.

"Well, that's what you get for falling asleep in an armchair," Erestor pointed out.

"That's true. Why did you wake me up?" I asked.

"Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel arrived about a quarter of an hour ago. They have sent for us," he said. I hastily disappeared back into the bedchamber, shutting the door behind me.

"Elphaba? What do you think you are doing?" Erestor demanded, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

"To get presentable, of course, what did you think?" I asked, swiftly digging a brush out of my bag and running it through my hair. Erestor sighed. I ignored him until I finished, seizing a ribbon and entering the sitting room again.

"Do you think you could help me braid this lot up?" I asked, jerking a thumb to my hair. Erestor inclined his head, and moved around me. His movements were swift and gentle, surprisingly relaxing.

"Finished," he proclaimed, and we exited the room. We went through about two corridors, before we stopped at a door. Erestor knocked quietly.

"Come in," a deep voice responded.

I took a deep breath, and opened the door.


	14. Revelations All Round

_Chapter 14: Revelations All Round_

Erestor gestured for me to go in. I scowled darkly at him as I realised I had little choice but to go in, and entered, hurriedly rearranging my features into a more composed expression. I curtseyed in front of the famous Lórien duo.

"Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn," I greeted levelly.

"Lady Elphaba. Please, sit," Galadriel replied warmly, rising. "May I offer you anything? A drink, perhaps?"

"Thank you, my lady, I will."

"Now, now. Please, Galadriel," she entreated.

"Galadriel," I repeated.

"I must confess, I am quite curious," she admitted as she handed me a crystal flute filled with miruvor. I sipped it, allowing myself to relax a little.

"About what, if I may ask?"

"You," she answered, studying me.

"Why? Pardon me, but I do not believe that there is any great mystery to me," I said, taking another sip.

"I beg to differ," Celeborn responded, his eyes thoughtful.

"Indeed," his wife agreed.

"Have you any specific questions?" I asked, toying with the stem of the glass.

"Several. You call yourself Ithroniel."

"Yes," I prompted.

"But you are certainly not the daughter of a Maia; I should have heard if such a thing had occurred."

"Why is that puzzling? It could be that my father was merely misnamed as a wizard," I returned. Galadriel smiled thinly, inclining her head, making her some of her golden tresses spill down her front.

"Possible, but highly unlikely. Secondly, you radiate magic, but you are no Maia nor do you have a ring of power."

"True."

"Thirdly, your air is most abnormal indeed, and there are several others."

"I see and I am fairly sure you would not believe my explanation even if I told you," I replied, sipping my miruvor.

"Try us," Celeborn challenged.

"Very well. I am of a different world. I died before I came here, and came alive again in more ways than one, as clichéd as that sounds. I am the daughter of a dragon, the daughter of a man, the daughter of a woman and the daughter of a Wizard. I am the daughter of Change and the daughter of Time. I am the Wicked Witch of the West, leader of the anarchist cell of the Emerald City. I am Elphaba Thropp."

"Which world do you hail from?" Galadriel asked eventually.

"Oz. Is there anything else?"

"I do not think so. I suppose I shall see you later," Galadriel said.

I rose, and nodded politely before exiting. I scowled at Erestor, and seized him by the hand, dragging him until we reached my chambers, grumbling and muttering under my breath.

After I closed the door, I grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him up against the wall.

"I swear, do that to me again and I will..." I paused to find a suitable threat. Erestor gazed calmly at me.

"Do what?" he enquired. I let go of him with a sigh.

"I actually do not know," I admitted. "But I promise it won't be pleasant!" I swore, seeing the faintest traces of a smirk begin to play around his face.

"Of course, Elphaba," he replied. "However, it pains me to say, that there is more."

"What?" I snapped.

"You are meant to go and see Queen Lenfaer and Princess Eleniel in approximately zero minutes," he said calmly. I swore under my breath.

"Where?" I asked. He smiled at me.

"Perhaps it would be easier for me just to take you there," he responded, taking my arm. I muttered under my breath as we exited the sitting room yet again.

Then, I stole a glance at the smile Erestor was wearing, and it made my stomach do a bad somersault. It was dangerously near seductive. I hurriedly looked away, very aware of the sudden rush of blood to my head.

Minutes later, we arrived at a door and I knocked. Erestor was all ready disappearing. I nodded at the girl who opened the door.

"Hello. I am here to see Queen Lenfaer and the Princess Eleniel." She bowed, and stepped out of the doorway.

I tried very hard not to raise an enquiring eyebrow at the sight that met me. Queen Lenfaer and an elleth I guessed to be Princess Eleniel, were playing with a tiny flaxen-haired Elfling.

"Lady Elphaba, _hiril nin_," the girl said.

"Thank you, Elanor," the queen answered. The maid curtseyed and retreated to an unobtrusive corner, her eyes watching the little Elfling with a look of fierce devotion and pride. The princess and the queen rose from their nest of skirts, which rustled as they moved, and inclined their heads in greeting.

"_Mae govannen_, Queen Lenfaer, Princess Eleniel," I began softly.

"_Mae govannen_, Lady Elphaba. You are most welcome," the queen replied. She smiled, and gestured for me to sit, which I did reluctantly.

Before an awkward silence could settle on us, the little Elfling took action. Not noticing the slight tension in the room, he toddled over to me and smiled widely.

"_Sui-lad_," he attempted, mangling the pronunciation. I smiled a little at him.

"_Suilad_. What is your name, _penneth_?" I asked him. He puffed out his chest.

"I no' a li''le one! And my name is Le'olas!" he said indignantly. I looked him up and looked him down sardonically, unwilling to humour his delusion.

"Not little? Forgive me, my sight must be going. You see, to me, you look to be about two feet tall, right now, and that is but a third of my height; so you see, to me, you are quite a little one. You speak like it too," I added, amused. Eleniel seemed to wince. I soon found out why.

"I AM NO' LI''LE ONE!" he shrieked, stamping his foot. Queen Lenfaer flinched at the shrill pitch, before sighing and picking up her son.

"Come, little love, I believe there is something that will cheer you up in the nursery," she whispered to him, throwing me an almost disappointed glance. She hurried into another room and shut the door lightly behind her. I looked contritely at Princess Eleniel, who looked very embarrassed.

"Forgive me, I did not know how explosive your brother's reaction would be," I apologised. She smiled wearily, sadly at me.

"Please. Do not be sorry. He is always that way. He is...very wilful. My parents will probably have no more children after him, until they reach Valinor, and so they spoil him."

I winced in empathy. "You must be glad that you will be leaving soon," I offered, remembering how elated I had been at the first news of my going to Shiz; more than just the education, it had meant I would be away from Nessarose for two whole years!

"If only," the princess sighed. "Adar is very concerned about my safety, so it will be likely that I just move to another part of the palace."

I smiled in sympathy, before changing the subject. "Are you excited about your wedding tomorrow?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, very, except..." she dropped her eyes to the floor demurely, in a vain attempt to hide her blush.

"Except?" I prompted.

"Well...you know," she whispered.

"I am afraid that, since I do not, you must let go of maidenly modesty for a moment and tell me plainly," I drawled.

"You know...the wedding night," she whispered almost inaudibly. I gaped at her, before bursting out into laughter.

"It is not funny!" Eleniel insisted indignantly.

"It is!" I howled, doubling over and clapping my hands over my mouth to cut off the laughter. I smiled at her. "Has your mother not talked you through it?" I asked her.

"I couldn't possibly talk to her about it!" she replied with a look of horror. "Well, do you want Galadriel or I to talk you through it?" I asked, concealing a grin at her naivety.

"Pardon me, Lady Elphaba, but I am sure that I could not talk to Lady Galadriel either," she answered firmly.

"Well, then, I am your only choice," I said firmly. "This may take some time, so I suggest you send for a tray of refreshments," I added as an afterthought.

-e-

I smiled sleepily as I was dragged to consciousness the next day, remembering the events of the day before. Eleniel had gone a variety of colours and shades as I talked her through it, from red to purple to bright pink, with supersonic speed. There was another knock at the door.

"Come in," I yawned. An elleth came into the room, carrying something.

"Good day, Lady Elphaba. I have come to ready you for Princess Eleniel's wedding. Do you mind?" she asked. I forced a smile.

"Of course not," I forced out, in as pleasant a tone as I could muster. The attendant nodded, set down the thing she was carrying and took me by the arm. She led me to washroom and cleared her throat as we entered.

"Forgive me, milady, but I must ask you something. Would it make you uncomfortable if I helped you wash?"

I frowned slightly. "Would it make you uncomfortable?" I asked her seriously. I knew some people were squeamish about nudity even in private, and I knew myself to be perfectly capable of washing myself. She shook her head. I shrugged.

"Suit yourself then." I stripped quickly, and moved over to a shelf where a small army of bottles had caught my attention.

"You do not need to know about those. Trust me, I do know what I am doing."

I nodded, and I clambered into the tub. The elleth had first appeared to be gentle, shy and somewhat unassuming; however, when I got into the tub, she transformed into a ruthless, uncompromising female who would put up with nothing less than her ultimate best.

"Hold still!" she scolded as she attacked me with the soapstone. I gritted my teeth, looking around surreptitiously for an escape route and sighing when I failed to find one.

"Forgive me."

She grunted in reply. Long after I was sure that I had lost over several trillion skin cells, she eventually sighed and looked me up and down.

"Good enough, I suppose. Now." With that fateful word, she pushed my head under water, letting it up quickly. I sputtered as some of my hair plastered itself to my face. She efficiently gathered it up, and began to thoroughly lather it, the motion strangely soothing. Then she ducked me under yet again with a quick word of warning, and started over. She sighed after that, and gestured for me to stay in the tub. She sat down in silence, not seeming to want to make conversation.

"What is the time?" I asked her.

"It is an hour after dawn," she answered. My eyes widened.

"What?" I asked, bolting upright. "Why am I up so early? What time is the wedding?"

"In the early evening," she replied calmly.

"But then-"

"Milady, royal weddings are formal affairs, and the guests are to dress as such" she answered. I grumbled and muttered mutinously. Eventually, she let me out of the tub without further torture, and picked out a gown, before forcing me to sit on the chair and endure the worst torment yet. I bit my lip to stop my protests from coming out as she twisted, plaited, combed, and brushed none too gently.

"Milady, please look into the mirror," the elleth said politely after she had deemed herself finished. I complied and my eyebrows shot up. It appeared that there was a stranger there instead of my reflection. A green-skinned, brown eyed, black haired stranger, and our similarities ended there. She was dressed in a simple gown of deep blue trimmed with silver; her shining black hair cascaded down her back and shoulders. Some of the strands were braided, with ends encased in pale blue beads, which were the closest thing that she could get to warrior braids. Her skin was glowing softly, a gentle jade. Finally, a beautiful circlet rested on her head, shining a brilliant white that contrasted starkly with her jet-black hair.

"May I ask about the circlet?" I enquired.

"Lord Erestor said that you were to wear it," she answered. My eyebrows rose further.

"Why?"

"I do not know, milady. What I do know, is that Lord Erestor said that he would meet with you once your toilette was complete."

I nodded, and suppressed a shout of joy. It was over. The tortuous preparations were over. Now all I had to do was go through the diplomacy. I got up, and exited, blessing my sense of direction as I walked quickly to Erestor's chambers. I halted sharply as I reached his rooms and knocked.

"Come in," he called. I opened the door, and walked in, sitting down. My eyes widened. He was dressed in formal dark grey robes instead of his signature black, and he wore his hair in warrior braids, mithril beads occasionally clicking as they bumped, and he wore a silver circlet that was elegantly simple in its design. He looked formidable, regal...frankly, nothing short of amazing.

"Why am I wearing a circlet?" I enquired. He grinned.

"You do not like it?"

"I like it, I just want to know why I am wearing it."

"And I am not telling you," he returned.

Silence, for a few moments. Then it was interrupted by Nairon knocking once and letting himself in.

"Good day, Elphaba, Erestor!" he greeted us brightly. He was dressed in formal burgundy robes with golden embroidery on the sleeves, cuffs and hem and a circlet that was equally simple to Erestor's rested on his head.

"Good day, Nairon," we returned.

"Out of curiosity, what are we going to do for the rest of the day?" I asked them.

"We will be talking you through the protocol and etiquette for the wedding," Erestor said, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

"I thought elven weddings were relatively simple?" I questioned.

"The wedding ceremony is. The etiquette and protocol for the reception is not so," Nairon replied wearily.

-e-

Nine hours later...

I glanced outside, and ground my teeth. "I forgot. We can't tell when it's evening because we can't see the dusk," I complained.

Erestor snorted. "I would not worry, were I you. They will probably ring a bell, to tell us when. Now, what are you to do if someone of Greenwood asks you to dance _instead_ of threatening castration?" I noted his inadvertent wince at the word 'castration' with amusement.

I put my chin in my hands. "Decline politely?"

"You could do that, if you were very tired," Nairon replied absently.

"And if I wasn't?"

"Then you would be in no position but to accept, grin and bear it," Erestor said, trying to keep his lips from twitching. I glared at him.

"Hilarious. Tell me, what would you do if I set a pack of Mirkwood ellith upon you?"

Erestor paled. "You _wouldn't_!" he replied, his dismay obvious.

"I would!"

He groaned. "Fine, what do you want?"

I raised a brow. "What do I want?" I asked, softening my voice to an innocent, girlish lilt. Or as close as I could get, anyway. "I want...very little. I just _don't_ want to have to dance with males who abhor me and only dance with me to pump me for information. But I can put up with that. What I don't want _you_ doing is laughing at me, whilst I grin and bear it. All right?"

"Fine."

A loud bell rang, startling us.

"Oh, praise the Valar," I sighed.

"I thought you had a grudge against them?" Erestor asked, rising, a smirk playing around his lips.

"I dropped it out of practicality," I replied. We exited the room, three abreast, holding ourselves proudly. We walked into the garden where the ceremony was set to take place.

"We are in the front row," Erestor whispered, almost inaudibly. "Near Galadriel and Celeborn."

_Oh, great, _I thought, disgruntled. We seated ourselves, Erestor next to Celeborn, Nairon next to Queen Lenfaer.

_Using your friends as shields, Fabala? Tut tut, _Illmarë said teasingly.

_Shut up,_ I replied.

Thranduil rose slowly, proceeding to the left side of the large garden. The groom rose also and followed him, standing face to face with him.

"Aralos, son of Erygur, why have you come here today?" Thranduil asked, in a measured tone.

_Redundant question, old boy, _I thought.

"To bind myself to this lady, who has chosen me," the groom replied, tearing his eyes from the princess with difficulty. Thranduil inclined his head and gestured to the bower in the centre of the garden.

"Then if that is the word of her heart and yours, take your place and await your bride," he said, voice cracking slightly one the 'bride'. Aralos nodded, and complied, his eyes returning to the princess.

"Erygur, lord of my court, why have you come here this day?" Erygur rose and stood opposite Thranduil.

"To bless the union of this lady and my son, whom she has chosen."

"Then, if it is your will, take your place and await the coming of his bride." Erygur nodded and strode to his Aralos's side.

"Lenfaer, Queen of Greenwood." The queen rose and stood in front of her husband. "Why have you come here this day?"

"To bless the union of my daughter and this lord, whom she has chosen."

"Then, if it is your will, take your place and await her coming," Thranduil spoke. The queen inclined her head and glided over so she was exactly opposite Erygur.

"Eleniel," Thranduil called out, his voice hitching. For the first time, I felt a twinge of sympathy for him. "Princess of Greenwood." The blonde princess rose and took her place. My eyes widened. Her dress was a deep forest green, which rustled as she moved. She wore a tiara of flowers, the rest of her hair tumbling freely down her back.

"Why have you come here this day?" he asked, choking.

"To bind myself to this lord, whom I have chosen," she replied proudly. Her obvious display of strength seemed to remind Thranduil he had an audience, as he lifted his head to match hers.

"Then, if it is the will of your heart, go to him."

Eleniel inclined her head deeply, and she drifted over to the bower, until she stood opposite the groom.

"Lord," Lenfaer began, addressing Aralos. "You have come here this day, to bind yourself to my daughter."

"I have," Aralos responded steadily, not taking his eyes of the princess.

"Have you your gift for her?"

"I do," he replied, his hands going to the back of his neck. He unclasped the necklace that rested around his neck, a gold chain with a sapphire pendant.

"Lady. You have come here this day, to bind yourself to my son."

"I have," Eleniel replied softly.

"Have you your gift for him?" Erygur asked.

"Yes." With that, she unclasped a necklace at her neck. A gold chain with a glowing amethyst pendant. The necklaces lay in their palms.

"Lord, will you vow to love my daughter, to honour and protect her, to comfort and to cleave to her and no other, as Varda's lord cleaves to her?"

"I will, my lady."

"Lady, will you vow to love my son, to honour and protect him, to comfort and cleave to him and no other, as Manwë's lady cleaves to him?"

"I will, my lord."

Slowly, Aralos held up the chain and clasped it around Eleniel's neck.

_Ah, love, _Illmarë sighed as Eleniel shuddered at the touch.

"This gift I give to you, lady, that I bind myself to you as your husband and that the vows I have made today, I shall keep. Do you accept my pledge, lady?"

"With honour and joy," Eleniel responded, smiling brilliantly. She held up her pendant in turn and began to clasp it around his neck.

"This gift I give to you, lord, that I bind myself to you as your wife and that the vows I have made today, I shall keep. Do you accept my pledge, lord?"

"I accept it," he replied.

"As Varda is your witness," Lenfaer began gently.

"As Manwë is your witness," Erygur continued.

"And as Eru, the father of us all, stands in witness, we join your hands now for you are one," they finished in unison. Lenfaer placed Eleniel's hand in Aralos's and cheering burst out around the garden as the couple kissed.

_Oh..._ Illmarë sighed.

_Don't go __**too**__ sappy on me now,_ I retorted.

"Now, bring on the feast!" Lenfaer cried.

And the roar of approval for _that_ idea, reader, was deafening.

-e-

"Oh, crap," I muttered in Qu'aati, as I saw a Sinda heading toward me.

"Get ready," Erestor murmured, also in Qu'aati.

Wait...perhaps I should explain. Half an hour after most had finished the feast, the musicians and minstrels had begun the dancing music. I had managed to pass the first two unseen and talk to the princess correctly, as well as escape a reel that comprised every female save yours truly dancing around in patterns.

"Nairon, Erestor!" he exclaimed brightly. "How are you?"

"We are well, thank you," Nairon replied.

"And who is this ravishing creature?" he asked, turning his eyes on me.

"I am Elphaba Ithroniel. And you?"

"I am Seregal Alagosion," he smiled widely. "May I have the honour of this dance?"

"Of course," I managed.

"Excellent," he replied, offering me his arm. I took it, and he led me out.

"For what it's worth," I murmured. "I'm an awful dancer."

"Do not fear. I am too."

"Liar," I returned. He chuckled as we circled easily.

"This is true. In my defence, however, you are good at this. Then again, most Elves are."

"Out of every ten Elves, how many are fumble-foots, then?" I enquired.

"Hmm...approximately, none."

"Now I think I understand why some humans hate us, then," I muttered.

"Why should they?" Seregal asked.

"From their viewpoint, our lives are perfect. We are, by default attractive. We have advanced medicine that they don't and guess what? We're different."

"So?"

"Humans have curiosity, but they're afraid of what they don't know, since, by definition, they cannot manage what they do not. There's also the fact that, they die because they do not have the same healing skills we have. We have peace among our kingdoms. We have low crime rates. We have no need for a steadily growing population because of our immortality, and subsequently, we don't subscribe to the practice of betrothing our offspring whilst they are _still_ children. Because of our superior medicine, do we have an insanely high child mortality rate, which can be up to and even beyond half of the child population? No, we do not. Do the humans know that? You bet your boots they do. They have a million and one reasons to resent us. It's a wonder they haven't tried to hunt us down," I finished, out of breath.

Then I blushed slightly as I remembered who I was talking to; not Erestor, but a veritable stranger. "Forgive me, I did not intend to rant so."

"That is fine. But..." his voice trailed off. "Up to half the child population?"

"Die in the first few years of childhood. Often before they reach five years old," I replied sadly.

"But that is terrible! Awful!"

"And it does not help that we do not aid them," I grumbled.

"They would refuse it," Seregal retorted.

"The menfolk might. But I would be willing to bet _anything_ that a pregnant woman would not refuse another female's help, or even a male's. One of the reasons the babies die is because of that."

"How so?"

"Grandmothers and other meddling minxes, Seregal. They advise the naïve young mothers to feed them other things than the natural breast milk, often before the baby has teeth. They shove it down the children's throats."

His jaw dropped. "But..."

"But what?"

"If the milk wasn't the best thing for the baby, then why isn't it oatmeal that is..." he trailed off, unable to articulate it. I scowled.

"Stop thinking logically about this," I reprimanded. "Humans don't make sense. And to them, neither do we."

"I can believe that. May I ask...how do you get so worked up about these issues?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You sound as though you really care, but...they are not here, not now. They are not a part of your daily routine."

"Funny; I don't see the Sindar being cordial with the Kinslayers." The remark was out before I could stop it. Seregal stiffened, his blue eyes hardening.

"That is different."

_...I made this grave, now I have to lie in it._

"Is it? How so? The Kinslayers are no longer here. They are not part of your daily routine. It happened many, many years ago. And yet, the very mention of them is enough to transform _you_ genial, lighthearted and exuding bonhomie, into stiff, rock-hard and terse. And you have the nerve to ask me how _I_ can get worked up, about issues that are in the present, and that are ongoing?"

"It is a failure in history. One that we do not like to reflect upon."

"And we thinking that we can just allow the Secondborn of Illúvatar to die before they have the chance to live, is another failure, only _this _time, it's history in the making," I shot back. "It's a moral failure. No one is perfect, and I don't believe we should try to be...but how the hell did we get to this state of ignorance and apathy to the problems of our little brothers and sisters?"

"They are _not_ little brothers and sisters of ours!" he hissed.

"Did you not hear the words of the wedding ceremony? 'As Eru, the father of us all, stands in witness'. The father of us _all_, Seregal! And not only are we brothers and sisters through the spirit, but in some cases, our races are bound through marriage and kinship," I replied fiercely as I curtseyed and exiting the dance-floor. I headed back to where Erestor was, standing unobtrusively at the sidelines.

"Bastard," I mumbled. Erestor sighed.

"What did he do?" he asked in a resigned tone.

"It's more about what I did, in all honesty," I sighed. "Somehow, we got onto the subject of why some mortals hate us. One of the reasons was their high child mortality rate." Erestor groaned.

"You felt compelled to bring _that _up? At a _wedding_?"

"Yes...but it gets worse."

"Oh no..."

"He said that, the babies who were dying weren't part of my daily life, they weren't with me on the dance-floor. Like that should mean it shouldn't matter to me very much."

"And you said?"

"Quote: 'Funny; I don't see the Sindar being cordial with the Kinslayers.'"

He nodded, seeming calm. "Take my arm. Let's go for a bit of a walk." I took his arm and we speedily went to a garden.

"Elphaba," he began, looking at me intently, silver eyes full of worry. "Did anyone else other than Seregal hear you say that?"

I shook my head. "No. Third dance, there were about seven other couples on the floor."

"Good. All right. Thankfully, as Seregal is a levelheaded character, he is unlikely to go to Thranduil over it. Honestly, though, Elphaba, what were you thinking?"

"I _wasn't_."

"That much is evident."

"But he! He was acting like it was horrible but he wasn't prepared to _do_ anything about it!"

"And?"

"And this place is _three fucking days _from a human settlement!"

"Thranduil and the Master of Esgaroth have a trade diplomatic relationship only. They aren't allies!"

"They could be two strangers, but if someone stands by while others are suffering, then the bystander's a scum!"

Erestor was quiet for a few moments, before saying, "Seregal clearly doesn't think in those terms. It is good that we leave tomorrow."

I nodded. "I'm sorry I screwed up so badly."

"It is well. It has reminded me of an important fact, the reason I brought you here, in fact."

"What's that?"

"Nairon and I are good at diplomacy because we know what to say. You are good at diplomacy because you know what other people are thinking. The crucial thing is to keep you from opening your mouth."

"Yeah."

"Now, let us go back inside."

-3-

Later on, at an absurdly unholy hour of the morning, Erestor paced in his room, his feet making no noise on the richly carpeted floor. His normally together, silver gaze was stormy, frothing and churning with a mass of emotions. Jade skin, black locks and chocolate eyes haunted him like a mischievous poltergeist, teasing, taunting, playing, snapping.

She was no beauty, that he knew. She was nowhere near a match for Arwen, Lύthien, Galadriel, Nimrodel or any of the famous beauties. But she radiated an aura to rival that of Elrond. An aura of strength, wisdom and something distinctly supernatural.

"This cannot go on," he declared firmly to the air and furniture. "She is driving me mad," he continued. "So what do I do?" His voice trailed off after asking that time-honoured question. Erestor thought for a few moments before he came to a decision.

"To Ûdûn with it," he growled, rising and exiting his chamber.

-e-

I blinked when I heard the soft knocks at the door. I slipped out of bed and padded over to the door, swinging it open and coming face-to-face with a wide-eyed Erestor, who looked like he'd just drunk a cappuccino with all the perk of Galinda.

"Well, _mellon_?" I asked, fixing him with a stare that said this had better be worthwhile: Or Else.

"Come, come with me," he pleaded urgently.

"It cannot wait until morning?" I asked, somewhat crossly. He shook his head, and grabbed me by the hand. I snorted, but allowed him to lead me through a series of corridors. Suddenly, we were in a quiet, very secluded garden. We sat down beneath an enormous oak. Eventually, Erestor spoke.

"Elphaba, I am in a dilemma. For several months, I have known an elleth. Over the past month or two, I think my feelings for her have grown into something more than friendship."

"I see." It surprised me how level my voice was, since I could feel the tears coming on. "Why do you need me, then?" I asked. Erestor opened and closed his mouth several times, but nothing came out. He sighed, and before I knew it, his lips were gently pressed to mine. As soon as my brain registered what was happening, I broke away.

"W-w-what? Why?" I asked, hand flying to my lips. He looked at me.

"If you'll pardon the abominably clichéd nature of this reply...you are the elleth."

Silence. It stretched between us, long, tense and terrifying. My mind was in chaos. I looked at Erestor. There was such love, fear, hope and pure gentleness in his eyes, I was willing to believe him; then, I looked back at my hands, remembering who I was: Elphaba Thropp, green, crude, queen of the outspoken. I could have stayed there all night, had Illmarë not interfered.

_Fabala, look at the Elf. You two are very close. There have been at least a hundred and one touches and looks that have been passed between you and this ellon, which you would never exchange with any other. Little girl, little Fabala, he does love you. Do you love him? she asked._

I knew my answer. _Yes!_

_Then tell him. He's terrified._

I took a deep breath and looked at Erestor. I leaned forward, hiding a smile as he unconsciously mimicked me, until we were a hair's breadth away, put an hand at his neck's nape and kissed him. Hard.

He responded eagerly, running a hand through my hair. One hand of mine remained at his neck, but the other began journeying, dancing lightly over his body, making me shudder with pleasure as I felt the hard muscle that was hidden by his tall, slim build. His hands started wandering too, though in a remarkably restrained fashion, before coming to rest clasped around my waist. Eventually, we had to break from our kissing for oxygen (and, to my shame, coherency). I studied Erestor closely. Flushed face, inky locks disheveled, dilated pupils, darkened irises, swelling lips and his chest was rising and falling at a ludicrously fast rate. The stuff of very improper fantasies, to put it bluntly.

"So..." Erestor began. "Does that mean that the feeling is mutual?" he asked.

"It does," I answered.

"Mmm-hmm, that is good. What exactly did you want to do now?" he asked, his chest vibrating.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Did you want courtship, betrothal...what do you want?" he clarified.

"Ah." I chewed my lip. "I am sort of thinking...courtship by night," I said.

"What do you mean?" he asked softly.

"By day, we are respectful, mature adults who are close friends and colleagues. But by night, we are this," I made a vague gesture that incorporated ourselves to illustrate it.

"If you want." I searched his face.

"You truly do not mind?" I asked cautiously. He smiled slightly at that.

"Elphaba, I have not been thinking about anything much except about work up the courage to say my piece, and remind myself that Elrond cannot afford for me to fade. He needs me in working condition for anywhere near several millennia," he answered.

"You thought I might have not returned your affections?" I enquired, beginning to trace a pattern on his hip.

"It was a distinct possibility," he returned, allowing my fingers to continue their questing.

"I suppose," I conceded. I looked at the moon's position, and my eyes widened. Dawn would be in about three hours, and we were leaving then. Two hours until we had to be back in our respective quarters to pack. I sighed and swooped in, stealing a quick kiss from him. Smiling ruefully, I pointed to the moon and he growled.

"Damn," he swore. I laughed, softly.

"Looks like I'm rubbing off on you, _meleth_," I teased. His eyes snapped to my face.

"Are you sure?" he pressed softly. I rolled my eyes, and kissed him quickly again.

"Good morning, Erestor," I whispered. Then I took off through the gardens, determined to make the most of the time we had left, laughing with a horrifying resemblance to a lovestruck teenager. But I was a 'mature' woman of over fifty years; I thought I'd earned the right to be a little giggly. I heard Erestor laugh, leap to his feet, and silently run after me.

_**AN**_

**Yeah, yeah. It was late. Guys, you have no idea how much I have been AGONISING over this chapter. Hell, for about a fifth of my day today was spent glaring at the screen and half wishing it would spontaneously combust. I'm so, so, so, **_**very**_** sorry. But to appease you, Angry!Elphaba just came back full throttle. And thank heaven that there were no other couples near her and Seregal, because judging by my mood today (let's just say it would send Morgoth running for mama), Thranduil probably would've ended up declaring war on Imladris. Not cool.**

**Oh, and if I screwed up on the wedding? Please, tell me how to correct it and I promise, I will.**

**Reviews make me happy, if you're interested. Which I kinda doubt you are. So I'll shut up now.**


	15. Of Skirmishes, Slashes and Secrets

We left early in the morning, in the predawn grey. The royal family, complete with Eleniel and Aralos, were assembled with only the Seneschal in attendance.

"You start with Prince Legolas and finish with King Thranduil," Erestor had explained. "Nairon and I will go first so you get an idea of how to do it."

I knelt and looked into Legolas's eyes.

"Suilad, your highness," I began. " I am sorry that you screamed when I told you that you were little. I beg your pardon. Just because you are smaller than me does not necessarily make you a little one." Legolas nodded, smiling.

"That's all right. Nana told me that you were not trying to be rude, but funny. I don't think you are very funny, but my sister said you're very nice. So you're all right." I suppressed a smile at his solemn tone.

"Farewell, your highness."

"Farewell."

I nodded and moved to his older brother, who looked about the elven equivalent of twelve.

"Your highness," I nodded deeply.

"Lady. Farewell."

"Farewell, your highness."

"Your highnesses," I greeted, grinning at them. The newlyweds both smiled brilliantly.

"Lady Elphaba," Eleniel replied, her tone regal but friendly simultaneously. "Thank you. You have helped me much in the brief time you have been here. No matter what, know that you always have two friends in the House of Oropher."

I looked proudly at her. "Spoken like a true princess, I would think. Princess Eleniel, Prince Aralos, it is my privilege to have met you, and my great honour to have your friendship. I thank you. Farewell."

"Farewell."

Queen Lenfaer looked at me, her smile almost as bright as her daughter's. "Lady Elphaba. Thank you for attending my daughter's wedding, and helping her." She lowered her voice. "I know what happened with Seregal. Again, I thank you. I have been trying to get help to the women but-"

"Many other Elves are suffering from acute xenophobia. Believe me, I know." Silence, then, "May I write to you? You and Princess Eleniel?" I asked, suddenly.

Lenfaer's smile widened. "Of course! We would love to hear from you."

"Thank you. Farewell."

"Farewell."

"Your majesty."

"Lady Elphaba. Farewell."

"Farewell." We retreated to the horses, and the others mounted up. Formalities done, we turned around and began our journey back home. I walked beside Erestor, until I saw a clearing where I could get on the broom.

"I'm going to go take off," I whispered to Erestor.

"Take care," he murmured. I nodded, and slipped over, rotating the broom and climbing on.

I blew my breath out wearily as I rose about four feet off the ground. I couldn't wait to truly get up into the air, but this would have to do for now.

-e-

Most of the trip passed without remarkable incident. Erestor and I had decided that trying to meet up while on the go was too risky, so we had to content ourselves with seeing each other at breakfast, lunch and dinner, much to our mutual displeasure.

On the tenth day, though, there was a bit of an incident. It went something like this.

We were at the foot of one of the mountain passes, where we planned to cross. We were just packing up our lunch rations when we heard stones clattering down a slope. We glanced up to see a party of orcs standing on top of the slope. Hurriedly, I handed Nethril the broom.

"Don't argue," I said fiercely. "Just do it. Both of you!" Nethril nodded, her face pale, and took off. I couldn't blame her. Those orcs were ugly.

The orcs, seeming to realise that they had been discovered, roared and started running down the slope. The escort formed a barrier between us and the orcs, but that didn't stop me from unsheathing my blades and moving to stand beside Erestor. He smiled grimly at me, his eyes worried.

"Be careful. If we need to fight, stay close to me," he told me. I nodded, and began to watch the orcs as they pelted down the slope.

"It's a wonder they aren't tripping on the stones," I remarked.

"It would be nice if they were," Nairon mumbled. I nodded, at that.

"Here they come," Erestor murmured. "You know what to do."

And that was all we managed to say before the orcs, who numbered twenty-three, threw themselves upon the escort, about four of them coming around back of the barrier. I snarled, flicking my blades up into a block as two of them came to me.

"Try not to use gender profiling next time," I growled in greeting. I darted around the first, shoving him into Erestor who had just finished dispatched his, and quickly sized up my opponent. Ugly, wielding a rusty-looking, crude sword, five foot seven and leering. He roared and with startling reflexes, delivered a series of rapid blows, the first of which I failed to parry. I hissed as I felt a cut form on my stomach, a feral smile forming onto my face as adrenaline began rushing through, blocking each blow before stabbing the orc in his gut with one knife and chopping off his head with the other. I withdrew my knife from the orc's body, unprepared for the spray of black blood that fountained onto my face.

"Ugh," I grumbled, retreating several feet away, noticing how the escort were finishing off the remaining orcs with Nairon's help, before bumping into someone.

"Elphaba!" Erestor exclaimed. He enveloped me into a bear-hug, making me gasp with pain. He immediately let go and held me at arm's length, looking at my face intently. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

I shook my head, smiling feebly. Now that the adrenaline rush was over, it was much more noticeable. As was the accompanying pain. "No, not you Erestor. One of the bastards managed to catch me on the stomach."

His eyes widened. "What?" he turned to the escort. "Is there a healer with us, we need one!"

An ellon quickly came forward. "I am a healer, hir nin. Are you injured?"

"Not I, Lady Elphaba."

"I'm fine, Erestor!" I snapped, lying through my teeth. Call me prudish, but I wasn't extremely comfortable with an unknown male looking at my torso.

"You are not fine!" he replied. "You are injured!"

He's right, you know, Illmarë interjected.

"Lady," the healer ellon began, raising a pacifying hand. "If you are uncomfortable, I understand. Perhaps your companion can tell me what is the problem, and the severity while I listen to her and I will tell her what to do."

I considered this proposal for a few moments, before I grudgingly nodded assent. "All right."

-3-

Nethril winced at she saw the injury. Elphaba lay beside her, prone and unconscious, thanks to a potent soporific that Nethril had administered from sheer desperation at the many protests.

"How is it?" the healer called.

"It looks shallow. No discolouration. It does not smell too bad."

The healer considered this for a second, before smiling with relief.

"Clean wound, not serious. I shall get some water and ready a dressing for you."

"Thank you," Nethril called.

Erestor walked over to the healer. "Well?" he asked, his worry evident. "How is she?"

"She will be fine," the healer soothed. "It is a shallow cut, nothing more. It may scar but it is unlikely." Erestor smiled. "Thank you," he said quietly before he returned to his job of fetching kindling for the fire.

The healer's eyes widened as he saw his horse still tacked up, tethered to a stunted tree.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, scurrying over to his mare. "Goheno nin, Mireth," he crooned, as he quickly untacked her. She swung her head around and snorted, tossing her head expressively. "I know, I know. But there was an elleth injured," he explained. Mireth seemed to consider this before nodding brusquely. The healer nodded satisfaction before stowing his tack and fetching his canteen, a salve and a dressing. He moved back to the tent, and sighed.

"Pardon me?" he called. "I have the things." Nethril poked her head out of the flap and smiled when she saw the equipment.

"Hannon le," she breathed, quickly taking the things and setting them down beside where Elphaba was lying. "What do I do?"

"First, clean the cut. Pour the water over the gash," he instructed. Nethril nodded, and unstoppered the canteen, tipping it over the wound and watching it.

"Next, apply the salve and then, wrap the dressing around her stomach."

Nethril went to her bag and hurriedly dug out a spare piece of cloth before returning to soak up the excess water. When the cloth was soaked through, she set it aside and applied the salve; she lifted Elphaba's head and shoulders, elevating her upper body until she rested on Nethril's upper leg. Then Nethril wound the fresh, light dressing several times around her lady's stomach. She admired her handiwork for a moment, before lowering Elphaba's head back onto the ground and pulling her chemise back down.

She stood, and stretched, exiting the tent. She nodded to the healer.

"Finished," she reported. The healer nodded.

"Pardon me, but could I ask you to take over cooking dinner for tonight? Most of the escort are at the nearest stream, washing off the orc blood and Nairon is attempting to do it himself..."

Nethril's eyes widened with alarm. She knew the diplomat, though good-humoured and amiable, was simply a terrible cook.

"On my way!"

She hurried over to where Nairon was attempting to slice some onions, and in payment, was nearly chopping off his own fingers. She took easily persuaded Nairon to pass her the ingredients. When he protested that he wanted to be of a little use, she smiled sweetly at him and announced her gratitude, for then he could skin the rabbits and do the washing later.

An hour later, enticing aromas arose from the steadily bubbling pot that was filled with delicious rabbit stew. Nethril nodded before looking up to see the escort walking back into the camp, shivering. A few sniffed the air appreciatively before turning their heads to stare at the stewpot.

Nairon and Erestor quietly talked as they exited camp to head to the stream and wash off the gunky blood of the orcs. As they entered the icy water, Nairon asked casually, "So, what has been going on between you and Elphaba?"

Erestor smiled confusedly. "Forgive me, Nairon, I do not follow."

"Come now, Erestor, do you think I am blind? There has-"

"Actually, I think you are perfectly capable of seeing," Erestor interrupted, still smiling in that confused but amiable fashion.

"There has been a slight change in your interactions with Elphaba and slight change in her interactions with you," Nairon continued.

"Has there?" Erestor asked in a questioning tone. "I did not notice."

"Ha! Slim chance of that. You are far more observant than you give yourself credit for."

"Guilty. Any other charges you would care to level at my feet?"

"Erestor! Why are you being so evasive?" Nairon asked, exasperated.

"Because you refuse to see that we are now best friends and formerly we were close friends," Erestor retorted.

"Oh? Pardon me. I had considered that but..."

"But?" Erestor prompted.

"It's rather unusual for an ellon to be best friends with an elleth," Nairon deadpanned. Erestor sighed as he scrubbed his face.

"We haven't established that both Elphaba and I are not usual?"

"We have," Nairon said cautiously.

"Then why do people not attribute our odd actions to the fact that we are odd?" he demanded, exiting the stream and rubbing himself dry with his towel.

"I do not know, you tell me!" Nairon replied.

"I do not know either," Erestor sighed. Nairon exited, and the ellyn dressed in silence, quickly heading back into camp.

"Ah! Impeccable timing, my lords; the meal is ready!" Nethril called. They smiled, walking over and grabbing a bowl each, anticipation building.

After eating, the healer glanced at the sky and frowned. "Hmm. Odd. I would have thought she had come to by now."

"I will check on her," Nethril offered instantly. She rose, setting her bowl down and striding over to the tent, ducking in.

"Elphaba?" she asked softly.

"Nethri?" Elphaba's voice was weaker than usual. Nethril dismissed it as an aftereffect of the soporific.

"Elphaba!" she rushed over, quickly kneeling beside her. "You're all right!"

Elphaba's lips twitched. "I guess so. Who knocked me out?"

"I did. You were complaining so much."

"Fair enough. So, am I fit to travel?"

"According to the healer."

"Good. It's nice to be back."

Nethril nodded, before exiting silently. She grinned.

"Well?" the healer asked.

"She's awake," Nethril replied. Erestor let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"May we see her?" Nairon asked, motioning to himself and Erestor. Nethril nodded, crossing over to her seat by the fire.

Erestor gestured for Nairon to go in before him, stepping aside. Nairon nodded thanks, quickly slipping in.

-e-

"Elphaba?" Nairon asked quietly. My eyelids flickered open, narrowing in recognition for a second, before clearing.

"Hello, Nairon," I responded. "How are you?"

"Much better than before," he replied. "Erestor's been...concerned." My lips curved up into a small smile.

"The day Erestor isn't concerned about something or other, is the day that the sun forgets to rise," I answered.

"That is true," Nairon chuckled. Then he grew serious. "Honestly, it is good to have you with us. You are part of Imladris now. You are a full citizen, you are no longer a guest. You are one of us too."

My smile widened. "Thank you. That means much to me," I said sincerely.

Nairon inclined his head. "No trouble. Now, I think Erestor wants to see you." He rose, exiting the tent while Erestor entered.

I smiled at him as he sat down beside me.

"Hey," I greeted him softly.

"Suilad," he responded quietly. He watched me intently.

"Have I grown a second head?" I asked, flushing under his close stare.

"No, merely scared me half to death," he replied. I paused.

"Ah." I thought about this for a second before grinning inwardly. His evident worry really was very endearing. "Nairon said something, you know," I remarked.

"Oh?"

"Something about my being 'one of us'?"

"Ah. It is nothing you need to worry about."

I narrowed my eyes playfully. "You evade me?"

"I do, may I continue?"

"You evaded me about the circlet, too!"

"That is because it is related to the circlet; trust me, you'll hear the news when we are home." I snorted, sticking out my tongue.

"Fine," I grunted, before trying to sit up. His eyes widened.

"No, Elphaba!" he said, trying to stop me. I shook my head and managed to pull myself into a sitting posture, wincing when I felt the twinge of pain from my stomach. I slowly turned so that I faced Erestor, and kissed him quickly. His expression was dumbstruck for a moment, before he smirked.

"Taking advantage of your current situation, Elphaba? Tut tut," he teased. I smiled back.

"Wouldn't you?"

He laughed softly, hugging me. "I hate to admit it, but it is a possibility," he admitted. "Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject. I frowned.

"Hmm...yes, actually."

"Stay there, then. I'll get you some food." He stood and exited, quickly coming back with a bowl of warm stew. I eagerly accepted it, wolfing it down. Erestor said nothing, merely watching me eat it. As I finished my bowl, I fought the urge to squirm under his stare.

"Am I correct in thinking that you're going to watch me like a Golden Eagle?" I asked, brow flicking up.

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

"You can't watch me overnight, you know."

"No, but Nethril can. And probably will," he answered. My lips twitched again.

"Yes, she will." A yawn suddenly escaped me. Erestor laughed softly, hugging me quickly.

"I will take my leave. Sleep well, Maethil nin," he whispered. He rose and exited the tent quickly. I stared after him for a few moments, smiling in a somewhat loony fashion before lying down again. I really was tired...

-3-

Nethril rolled out of her bedroll the next morning at dawn, waking up instantly. She quickly brushed her hair and changed into a new dress, as brisk and efficient as she always was. She walked over to Elphaba who was wrapped up in her bedroll. Nethril shook her.

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up!" she said, her voice raising with each 'Wake up.' Elphaba didn't even stir. Nethril's breathing quickened, a tight knot of anxiety growing in her chest.

All right, Nethril, she told herself. All right. Do not worry. Just...just...the healer! Get the healer!

She forced herself to walk out of her tent at the normal pace. The ellyn were getting out of their tents also, the healer easily visible. She hastily walked over to him.

"Excuse me? I beg your pardon, but Elphaba is not waking up." The healer's eyes widened.

"She isn't?" he paused. "All right. I will go and check on her wound personally."

"What?" Nethril asked. She frowned fiercely before she relented. "Fine. But I swear, do anything to impugn her honour? I will tell her, and as likely as not, she'll turn you into a newt."

The healer nodded, his complexion much more pale than it had been before. He entered the tent, and knelt by his patient's side. He considered the problem of how to see the wound without damaging her honour. Eventually, he found a solution. He quickly retrieved his first aid kit and withdrew a small but wickedly sharp blade. Carefully, he picked up the part of her dress that covered her stomach so that when he cut a large, ragged circle out of it, he did not slit her belly. He repeated the action for the next two layers, finally coming to the surface. He sniffed experimentally and recoiled, hurriedly pinching his nose.

He withdrew his hand slowly before slitting the bandage and taking off the dressing. He gasped as he saw the wound. The gash that should have been scabbing over was still weeping. Pus oozed from the wound. The stomach was discoloured a sickly yellow, vibrant purple and a midnight blue.

"I do not understand," he whispered. "I cleaned and dressed the wound immediately. There must be...she..." Then the penny dropped. "Ai! No, no! An infection or a poison!" He racked his brain. There were five days left until they reached Imladris. If they went at a forced march pace, (which about only half their party could keep up with), they could make it in three. And in three days, depending on the poison, it was a possibility that Elphaba would be dead. There seemed to be no way out that he could see.

He exited the tent and found Erestor, Nairon and Nethril. He quickly took the three aside.

"What is it?" Erestor asked, his tone one of forced calm. The healer took a deep breath.

"There is a complication. It appears that the wound is infected. With what, I do not know." He paused again. "Questions?"

"I have one," Nairon responded. "How in Elbereth's name did this happen? The wound was cleaned and dressed not...not two hours after she was injured!"

"That probably would have been more than enough time for the poison to enter her bloodstream."

"Poison?" Nethril echoed, her voice about half an octave higher than usual. The healer flinched.

"It could be an infection," he added hastily, mentally kicking himself. "Perhaps the weapon was rusted or hadn't been cleaned for a while."

"But you do not think so, do you?" Erestor prodded, eyes narrowing, face paling.

"No," the healer admitted. He couldn't lie or even pad the truth under that...exceptionally keen stare. "I think it was poison," he felt compelled to add.

"And you do not know the antidote?" Erestor asked quietly. "Do you even know the poison?" he asked, his voice faltering. The healer shook his head.

"I am afraid not, hir nin," he replied. "Does anyone have any ideas how to get her to Imladris?"

"What's the point?" Nairon asked sadly, as a faint glimmer of hope dawned in Erestor's eyes.

"Elrond may know the poison," Erestor responded. The healer nodded.

"Yes. He knows so many poisons, even ones from very far away lands. If we can get her to him in time, it's probable she will survive."

"How long is 'in time'?" Nethril asked.

"It all depends on her physical condition. Depending on the poison, she could have as few as three days."

Three pairs of eyes narrowed in concentration. Nethril felt the very beginnings of an idea floating around in her consciousness. Eventually, it came back to her.

"I've got it!" she hissed. "The broom."

"Only Elphaba can ride the broom, and she can only do that when she's conscious. Even if anyone of us could, she'd need to order it," Erestor answered, his normally serene expression worried.

"No, no! She taught me that there was a spell that could be cast by anyone that knew the words. The spell could hand control of the broom to whomever knew the words, until such a time as the original rider could revoke it." The others smiled.

"Great. Now the question is: Do you know the words?" Nairon asked.

"No," Erestor corrected him, eyes narrowing to slits. "The question is, who'll go?"

"Neither of you should say which is the question because I'm the one with answers to both of them!" Nethril said. "Now. Yes, I know the words. And Erestor, you will go with her. I'm not strong enough to support an unconscious Elphaba, nor do I have the mental strength to direct the broom. Besides me, you are her closest friend. You are going. That's that."

"I can get there in time?" Erestor asked. Nairon snorted.

"Erestor, if the broom is dependant on mental strength, I'm confident you could go at speeds that would be second only to Nessa."

"So say I," the healer added.

"So say I," Nethril added. "And you have no idea how hard it is for me to say that."

Erestor nodded. "What are the words?"

Nethril beckoned to him and they moved a little further. When she judged they were sufficiently secluded, she stood on tiptoes and whispered.

"Will you allow me?" she asked in heavily accented Qu'aati. Erestor leant back and frowned down at the elleth.

"Will you allow me?" he repeated, his accent markedly better. She nodded.

"That's it."

"I've never thought that a spell sounds like that."

"Elphaba also taught me that you could make it up. That you cast a spell to create the...code words, if you like," Nethril confessed. Erestor snickered.

"How utterly Elphaba. Right, I am going to need to get that broom and..." he frowned. "What can we make that can keep Elphaba secure?"

Nethril frowned for a second before nodding. "What d'you mean? You don't need one. You physically hold her on, and use your mental strength to propel it."

He nodded. He strode back into camp, ducked into Elphaba's tent and quickly grabbed the broom. Feeling more than a little foolish, he mumbled under his breath, "Will you allow me?" in flawless Qu'aati. He mounted it quickly, swearing under his breath as it bucked a few times before stilling.

"Erestor!" Nairon barked. Erestor swivelled his head and saw Nairon carrying Elphaba bridal style over to the broom. Erestor shuffled further back on the broom and Nairon placed her on. Erestor took a deep breath.

"Don't let her fall. Keep her on," he whispered. He yelped in alarm as, somehow, ropes shot out of each side, winding around her thighs and tying her firmly in place to the broom.

"Right, I definitely didn't expect that."

Nethril ran up. "Keep your wits about you. Here," she tied a satchel to the broom. "Some rations if you get really hungry. You should be there before you do that, though."

Erestor nodded. "Right. I'm heading off, then." He closed his eyes, and blasted off, solely concentrating on speed and his destination.

What seemed like several terrifying hours later (actually being twenty minutes), Erestor landed on his study's balcony. He slipped into the office, still levitating the broom, quickly slit the ropes that bound Elphaba to the broom and picked her up, bridal style. He opened the panelling and walked inside, nearly running in his haste. He hastily knocked on Elrond's door.

Elrond curiously opened his panel, wondering who it could possibly be and was startled to find his Chief Counsellor carrying an unconscious Elphaba.

"Elrond!" shouted Erestor as he jumped out.

"Erestor? What is wrong? What is wrong with Elphaba?" Erestor pointed to the gash with his thumb.

"That is what's wrong! She needs treatment!" Elrond's eyes widened.

"Holy Taniquetil," he breathed. "Quick!" The two ellyn bounded out of the door and up to the healing chambers, Elrond barking orders. Erestor paced as the healers went to work, digging out volumes from shelves and as Elrond barked more orders. An elleth gently took Erestor by the arm and shooed him out.

"Master Elrond will work much better if your pacing does not distract him," she said firmly.

Erestor resumed his pacing, his mind buzzing. What was the poison? Was there an antidote? Did Elrond know it? Would Elphaba survive? Would she remember him, if she died? Would the poison erase her memory? What could he have done to prevent this?

Three hours later, Erestor's pacing was halted by a firm hand clasping his shoulder. Elrond faced him, his face weary but his eyes speaking of satisfaction and relief.

"She will be all right," he murmured. Erestor sighed, his face breaking out into a smile.

"Oh, thank Estë," he breathed. He looked his friend and lord in the eye. "Thank you, mellon brūn."

Elrond shook his head. "It was my pleasure, Erestor."

"Do you know what caused it?"

Elrond's expression darkened. "It was a poison. The mortals call it, 'deadly nightshade'. Useful in extremely small doses, but deadly in anything larger. Presumably, it was smeared onto the blade. Luckily, however, we had some of the antidote."

Erestor paled. "You mean...merciful Estë!"

His mind instantly flashed back to the healing tents all those years ago, at the foot of Orodruin. The ellyn who lay, groaning and even hallucinating in their pain. The orcs had used poisons on their weapons for the first time. For a long time, the practice had died out. Now it seemed they were rediscovering the deadly herbs.

Elrond nodded. "Yes. We will have to increase the supplies of antidotes." Then he shook his head. "Ah, what am I doing? We have just saved our friend! Surely we should be more joyful. Would you like to go and see her? She's unconscious, but I do not see why you cannot look in on her."

Erestor nodded eagerly and strode into the room. He gazed at Elphaba, noting the serene expression on her face. He sat there for a while, silently rejoicing in the fact that his Maethil was out of the woods, that she was still alive. Then he rose and slipped out like a shadow.

-e-

"Are we allowed to speak?" I heard a familiar voice ask, waking me from my sleep.

"Yes, but you must be very quiet. She is still healing."

"What happened?"

I decided that now would be a good time to speak. "Not a lot, Glorfindel, don't worry about it."

Erestor snorted, before echoing, "'Not a lot?' 'Don't worry about it?' Do not listen to her, Glorfindel. She got a fairly big slash on the stomach from an orc and it was poisoned with deadly nightshade."

Glorfindel snickered incredulously. "If that's 'not a lot', then I'd hate to see your definition of bad," he commented. I glowered at them both before changing the subject.

"Do I get to learn about the circlet now?" I asked. Glorfindel exchanged looks with Erestor.

"No!" they replied in unison. I glared.

"You said I would know once we were back!" I addressed Erestor.

"What he didn't mention was that there was going to be a specific event during which you would find out," Glorfindel replied. I snorted.

"So, how long am I in for this time?" I asked.

"A week," Elrond said, entering.

"Only that long?" I enquired. They nodded.

-e-

The week passed in a blur. Every day, Elrond checked up on me. Glorfindel and Erestor would visit me in the evening, and we'd pass the time together; occasionally, I felt annoyed at the Balrog-Slayer, since the lack of privacy hindered my romantic relationship with Erestor significantly. But then, I always remembered why Glorfindel was visiting: because he was being a caring friend, and I instantly forgave him.

Nethril came home on the fifth day. When she visited, she brought Celonith, Istion, Glirwing and Niphredil with her, who had been ignorant of my stay in the healing wing. There was much hugging, laughing and scolding, in addition to another annoying thing.

"Niphredil, Glirwing? What's going on?" I asked suspiciously after I observed the two winking at each other and giggling.

"Going on? Oh, it's fairly ho-hum," Celonith said innocently.

"Hmm."

About four days after I left the healing rooms, Nethril informed me that there was going to be a feast in honour of the new season that day.

"New season?" I asked, puzzled. "It's still spring!"

Nethril laughed as she continued her embroidery. It was in the late afternoon, around five. "No, no. Earlier, when we went to Princess Eleniel's wedding, that was the last of the winter, Rhîw. This is now the stirring, Echuir." I shook my head.

"All right."

Later, Nethril padded up to the closet and drew out the gown I had worn to the Princess's wedding.

"Tonight, you sit with Master Elrond and his advisers. But do not fear. You can spend some time in the Hall of Fire with us."

She combed out some of my hair into warrior braids, others she left free. I grunted as I heard the dinner bell.

"Good enough for me, come on! I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"

I leapt to my feet and strode down, ignoring Nethril's jibe about taking smaller, more 'ladylike' steps. I found Erestor heading in from a different entrance. I tapped his shoulder.

"Is there any protocol about where I should sit?" I asked. He shook his head.

"Just sit between Glorfindel and I," he replied, taking my arm. A little later, the enormous dining room was packed with smiling, happy faces. Elrond entered, and everyone stood en masse. Elrond was quite a sight, I have to admit. He was dressed in beautiful wine-coloured robes, and wore a circlet that was simple but didn't fail to clearly state his position as ruler of Imladris. Looking around, I noticed that everyone was dressed in their best clothes.

"People of Imladris," Elrond began at the head of the table. His strong voice carried easily down to the other end of the room. "We are here to celebrate the new season, the season of Echuir. When the earth begins to revive, and prepares to wake. When the worst of the chills and the accompanying difficulties begin to fade away. When the sun's strength starts to wax and new life is born. May our happiness also wax again."

There was a round of applause. Elrond waited patiently until the applause died down when he spoke again.

"As some of you may or may not know, in the last few weeks of winter, Princess Eleniel of Greenwood was married to Aralos Erygurion. As other affairs detained me, I sent a delegation of diplomats. This delegation included Lord Erestor, my Chief Counsellor, Lord Nairon, one of my most respected advisors, and Lady Elphaba, one of the greatest intellectuals it have been my pleasure to meet. On the way back from Greenwood, their party was attacked by a band of orcs. In the fray, Lady Elphaba was wounded by a poisoned gash, though she managed to kill the orc. She has made an excellent recovery, and I am sure that none of you good people, will mind if I say that this was my second motive in celebrating so early. And without further ado, I suggest we begin doing justice to this spread!"

I blushed as soon as I heard my name mentioned, and only kept darkening as Elrond continued. After dinner, Elrond discreetly left. Erestor rose and started tapping certain Elves on the shoulders, finally ending with tapping me on the shoulder. We rose and left, adjourning to a large room that was semiformal.

Elrond looked around, grinning widely.

"Perhaps you're wondering why I've pulled you away from dinner. Perhaps why you're wondering why a foreign radical was chosen to go on a high-stakes diplomatic mission. Perhaps you know. You're about to find out. Lady Elphaba!" I snapped up. I stepped into the centre of the room next to Elrond.

"Elphaba. You had three fathers, two of whom were some of the few people in the world who had better and worse jobs than I do: one was a dictator, and the other created your world. You brought down a dictator, the same one who happened to be your father. And I'm sure your real father, Frex, would've been incredibly proud to see you here."

"Perhaps, my lord," I chuckled.

"Actually, I meant that he could see you now as I appoint you as Imladhren Deputy Chief Counsellor," Elrond smiled.

I smiled confusedly. "I beg your pardon, my lord?"

"I am appointing you as my Deputy Chief Counsellor. You report to me."

"I am sorry, my lord?"

"Deputy Chief Counsellor to Imladris."

"My lord! I really don't follow," I said desperately. There seemed to be a loud buzzing sound in my ears, disorienting me.

"I am appointing you to the position of Deputy Chief Counsellor, it involves a wide range of responsibilities and privileges and you will report to Erestor and I."

"To you...the ruler?"

"Yes!"

"You know, I remember," Nairon piped up. "When you made me one of your counsellors, I had a dull buzzing in my ears, it was very confusing."

"The same thing happened to me," Glorfindel agreed wryly. He stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Stay in there, Elphaba, you are doing well."

"My lord...let me check if I understand this correctly. You are appointing me."

"Yes."

"To the position of Deputy Chief Counsellor."

"Yes."

"Which means I report to you and Erestor and only you two."

"Yes. Do you accept the position?"

I stood a little straighter. A chance to help out, make a difference, earn my keep instead of sitting around in indolence. "I accept!"

Elrond's smile broadened. He reached behind him and brought out a sheet of parchment.

"Lady Elphaba Ithroniel, by affixing my seal to this document and by signing this, I do appoint you as Deputy Chief Counsellor of my household and realm, to report directly to me; and it is done so on this day and in this place."

Erestor handed him a medium-sized box. "And I present you with this, as a token of your authority and status, to be used on formal occasions." I bowed my head and Elrond placed the circlet on it. I rose and the two ellyn grinned.

"Now," cried Elrond. "Enough of all this formality. Let us go and enjoy ourselves!" Erestor and Glorfindel linked arms with me. I looked at them.

"You prats!" I exclaimed. "You knew!"

"Guilty!" Erestor laughed, his eyes glinting in the flickering torch light.

"You complete and utter prats, the pair of you!" I mock-ranted. Then, as we entered the Hall of Fire, I slipped away to join my group.

"Congratulations!" they cried en masse.

"Hush!" I laughed. Then I blushed. "Thanks."

"Lady?" I turned to face Erestor, who was looking mischievous. "May I have this dance?" I paled.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no."

"Now, now, _mellon nin_," he chided, taking my hand and leading me onto the floor. "I know from experience that the best way to get you on the dance-floor is to take you and lead you on."

I looked into his eyes. "You mean the only way. Anyway, let's dance."

A/N

Hate it, love it? Let me know!

_Mellon nin _= my friend

_Mellon brūn_ = old friend

_Goheno nin _= forgive me


	16. In Which Talents Are Revealed

"YOU!"

Erestor lifted his head and I twisted around in my seat to see Glorfindel breathing heavily, his eyes blazing and his face red.

"Us?" I asked calmly, as he marched over to the side of the desk where he could look at both of us easily.

"You," he confirmed. "What do you say about-about _this_?" he brandished a sheaf of papers. I caught sight of the word 'Balrog' and exchanged a look with Erestor.

"Ah," he said interestedly. "_Those _papers?"

"Yes, _these papers, _Erestor. I was talking to an assistant in the library, and she did not realise whom I was nor my backstory. I found this..._rendering_ of it, not bothering to look further than the title page and left her with it to read. An hour later, I come back and I find her red to the roots of her hair and snickering! I look at it, curious, since, if I say so myself, endeavours such as slaying a Balrog rarely elicit such responses. What do I find?" He turned to the second page and began to read aloud:_ "The Elf-lord proudly tilted his head and smirked into the monster's face. 'I am both the fairest and the boldest of my House. What claim do you make?' As he spoke, he lowered his lids to a 'come hither' expression, peering at the monster through golden lashes."_

I fought the amused smile that threatened to spread over my face. Erestor took great interest in the ceiling of our office.

"Well?" Glorfindel demanded.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked innocently.

"Explain yourselves!" he shouted.

"You raise your voice in the presence of a lady?" Erestor asked mischievously. I looked at him enquiringly and he nodded almost imperceptibly. We had spent about four hours on banal reports and documents and it was time for a little _fun_. If that meant agitating an already furious Balrog-Slayer-

"_Damn right I do!"_

-So be it.

"Come now, Glorfindel," I chuckled. "Surely you saw the humour?"

"Forgive me, Elphaba," came the reply through grinding teeth. "But I fail to see any humour in an account of this event that portrays me as nothing better than an...an _orchuithor!"_

I frowned. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Erestor. Did he say we portrayed him as a male orc-fucker?" Erestor nodded. I looked at Glorfindel. "But that's completely untrue! We didn't portray you as an orc-fucker!"

Glorfindel snorted half-quizzically. Smiling sweetly, I delivered my final jab. "You see, we portrayed you as a Balrog-fucker."

Glorfindel roared, before taking off one of his gloves and slamming it down on the desk. "RIGHT! Elrond will hear of this!" He grabbed Erestor by the waist, then me (please note, this was only possible since Glorfindel is roughly seven feet tall). He stormed outside into the hall, with Erestor and I tucked under each arm like skittles pieces. The Elves that walked along the hallway looked on, wide eyed, at the sight. Glorfindel, somehow without dropping Erestor, managed to knock at Elrond's door and enter.

"Come in," Elrond said, a little late. His eyebrows rose at the sight that greeted him. Erestor and I hung, still, in Glorfindel's arms. Not as fun as some may think.

"Glorfindel? Erestor? Elphaba?" Elrond asked.

"_Mae govannen, hir nin," _Erestor answered. I hid a smile. _Glorfindel has just carried him under his arm into Elrond's office but he does not eschew the title._

"Glorfindel? What is this?"

Glorfindel sighed as he set us down. "This," he handed Elrond the scroll. Elrond snorted, reading through the first page. Then, as he turned the second page, he burst into hysterical laughter.

"My lord!" Glorfindel barked in protest.

Elrond held up a hand until he finished the five pages. "My, my, Glorfindel," he snickered. "I had no idea that you were inclined _that_ way," he raised an amused brow. "Who wrote this?"

"I did," Erestor said. Elrond looked slightly confused, his eyes widening.

"But...Erestor, you are not married!"

"No, my lord."

"Then how did you...this manuscript is very detailed...how did you..." then his eyes narrowed as the penny dropped. "Elphaba, did you help?" he asked. I inclined my head. "_Why_?"

"We had received word that we needed to transcribe another copy because one had been drenched, somehow. I must have been looking melancholy about it, because Mae-Elphaba," Erestor caught himself just in time. "Asked me what was wrong. I replied that I had read and written so many accounts that I could recite all of them in all of the different languages I know. She suggested that if the task would be so dull, we should...spice it up a little, shall we say."

"By inserting graphic bestiality?" Elrond asked, his tone incredulous. Erestor and I exchanged scowls.

"Thatversion was never meant to be read. We wrote it for the pleasure of writing it. But, _someone_," I glared at Glorfindel as I spoke, "was looking in an inappropriate place to begin with." Glorfindel glared back.

"The title did not suggest anything inappropriate! "Glorfindel and the Balrog" was all it said. How was I to know that it was..._orchorn_!"

"You were looking," Erestor hissed, his eyes hardening, "in my chambers. Which are _private_. This manuscript was intended for private use only. For _my eyes only._"

"The shelf on which it was found was not labelled 'The Foul Imaginings of Erestor Erendurion.' I was supposed to somehow telepathically realise that you were an aspiring scribe of matters carnal?" Erestor flushed and quickly I stepped between the two.

"Excuse me," I began firmly. "But have you forgotten that this was a collaboration? And, Glorfindel, with all respect, you were looking on a shelf, _in Erestor's chamber."_

"Calm down, Glorfindel," Elrond soothed, standing. "I am sure that the elleth who read it realises that there was no truth at all to the idea. Now, Erestor, Elphaba, it may be appropriate if you apologise to Glorfindel."

I took a deep breath. "Lord Glorfindel. We sincerely apologise for any offence that you have felt due to our account. It was only meant to be a humorous folly, without a grain of truth in it." Impulsively, I added, "_Mellon nin,_ we have only the greatest of respect and affection for you. We did not seek to hurt you, nor your feelings, nor your dignity. We sought only to make a task easier. We beg your pardon."

"Apology accepted," came the reply through gritted teeth.

"I believe I shall keep this," Elrond said.

"My lord!" Glorfindel cried.

"Why not? It seems quite entertaining, and as Elphaba so prettily said, it is but a humorous folly without a grain of truth to it."

Erestor made a weak groan of protest. "My lord-"

"No, Erestor. You may go now, all of you."

We nodded and exited as one. As the door swung shut behind us, Glorfindel grabbed us by the shoulders.

"We apologised, Glorfindel..." I reminded him.

"You did indeed," he sighed. "Just don't ever do that again. Or I promise, I will kick your rear ends on the sparring field." I mock-gasped.

"My lord! Where is your chivalry?"

Glorfindel gave me a dangerously sweet smile. "In my great rage, my ideas of decorum may possible be lost."

"Message received. Truce?" I offered my hand.

"Truce," he agreed, shaking it firmly. Then he pivoted and walked off to his office. Erestor sighed relief on the way back to our office.

"Thank you for defusing that situation, Elphaba," he said quietly. "I am afraid that if you hadn't, it could have gone rather badly."

I shrugged. "What are friends for?"

Sitting down, we glanced at the small piles of paperwork left, and then exchanged looks.

"There isn't _so_ much left," Erestor began thoughtfully.

"And we _have_ been working hard for several hours," I continued.

"I suppose we could take one or two hours off," Erestor concluded.

"Sparring?" I asked. He shrugged.

"If you like. If we spar, I'll work you a good deal harder."

I smiled widely. "That settles it, then. I'll go get my blades. Meet you there in a few minutes?"

"Done," he nodded. I touched two fingers to my forehead and walked up to my chambers, where I hurriedly changed and buckled on my knives, seized the broom and flew. Erestor was waiting for me, his black robes shed and now clad only in tunic and leggings, as was I.

He grinned and greeted me with a clasping of our forearms. I felt a quick glow fill me. I was a fighter, a warrior.

"Ready to be trounced?" he asked, eyes glinting. I inclined my head, the glow dissipating.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He nodded briskly and stepped back from the point of contact, twirling blades in his customary salute. I returned the gesture, before bringing the knives into a hurried block. He was there, thrusting, slashing, parrying, feinting, twin side cuts. Overhead cut and side cut simultaneously, thrust and overhead, feint and thrust and hit, hit, hit! Erestor was testing my dexterity to the maximum, forcing me into a whole new plane of combat skill. I panted as I blocked and parried, racking my brain as to how I could get out of this. I couldn't win in close quarters. I wasn't strong enough. Quickly, I reviewed my options:

Disengage and retreat before trying in-and-outs

Surrender

Take the beating

Call me crazy, but I chose the third. It was little time before Erestor disarmed me.

"You took it," he said almost wonderingly, knives resting coolly at jugular and waist. I winced, feeling several small welts and cuts opening.

"I'm not likely to develop any strength otherwise, am I?" I asked. He shook his head firmly, then noticed my slightly pained expression.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, immediately looking guilty.

"Stop!" I commanded. Instantly, he snapped to attention, inadvertently saluting me. "Erestor. Of _course_ you hurt me. You have five-thousand five hundred and fifty more years of experience at this than I do. I have a few months. Of _course_ I'm going to get hurt. It's going to be your job to hurt me, as my teacher. As far as training is concerned, if you love me, you are going to_ beat the living shit_ out of me." I stepped back. "Is my meaning completely clear?"

Eventually, the worry faded out of his eyes. "Of course. Pick up your knives."

I seized the knives again and we recommenced the painful dance.

And again. Again. And again.

Finally, after the _sixth_ beating – sparring implied that one party had a remote ability to hold their own, which was insanely far away from the truth – I held up a hand.

"Hold, Erestor," I ordered, summoning the authority I had wielded as the leader of the cell. "My turn. Lay down your knives."

He reluctantly unsheathed them and placed several metres back. I reciprocated.

"How much do you know of evasion?" I asked him. He considered for about two seconds.

"Nothing," he said simply. I grinned widely.

"Excellent. However, _mellon nin, _I feel compelled to tell you, my expertise in this area is in blending into bustling city centres."

"That environment can be arranged."

We sheathed our knives again. I leapt onto the broom, Erestor clambering onto it.

"You may wish to consider holding onto somewhere in the waist region that belongs to me," I spoke simply, my lips quirking into a smile. Surprisingly, Erestor was not especially tactile. Aside from the confession incident, he didn't kiss or hug much, and if his touches above the ribcage were uncommon, ones below were miraculous. I did find that I understood it, though. He did love me, but he simply wished to preserve the more tactile side of things for less commonplace times.

I didn't need to look behind me to sense his fluster. I hummed in thought.

"I find the thought of some loop-the-loops entertaining," I drawled, my implication obvious. With a yelp, Erestor wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned forward into the two-point position. I suppressed a shiver of enjoyment at feeling his torso mould against my back.

"Hold on," I said brightly. Then, I shot forward, the wind whipping back my hair until it streamed out behind me. Erestor cursed as he manoeuvred so that he wasn't chewing my hair.

_Hmm. That's awkward. Maybe I should put my hair up, so that in the future..._

My imagination happily conjured up scenes in which my hair didn't hinder the feel of Erestor against me while my intellect blushed, much to the rest of myself's shame. I landed on the balcony of Erestor's chambers, and shoved him in.

"What?" he asked.

"The most humble of your robes, Chief Councillor. Actually, allow me to rephrase that. The most ordinary of your robes." The request was probably unnecessary since most of Erestor's clothes were understated, at best, and morose at worse.

"_Meleth?_" he questioned.

"The purpose of the exercise is to see if I can evade your notice. If you stand out like a sore thumb, then the next most obvious thing will be that you are observing someone, and that makes my job ridiculously hard."

"Oh. I see," he responded from the bathroom. My imagination whined and petulantly stomped its feet. Illmarë remained silent. My intellect blushed even more. A couple of minutes later, Erestor reappeared in a humble black robe. I nodded approval. "Excellent. Wait, let me try something..." Under my breath, I softly recited the spell I had learned by heart, willing it with every fibre of my being. Then I felt the hem of my gowns tickle me. I pushed open the door of my closet, thanking the Valar that Nethril was on her honeymoon for another few days. I held up a halting hand.

"Stay there, Erestor," I said firmly. His eyes widened as he made the connection, mouth forming a silent O. He hastily clapped a hand over his eyes. I I selected chemise and my old black dress. Over it, I put my old black hood.

"All right, I'm decent," I said finally. He lifted his hand from his eyes and leapt over to the balcony with surprising alacrity. I made a mental note to enquire about the alacrity with which he moved before dismissing it. We hopped onto the broom and flew, landing a few metres away from a main street in the business section. I turned to Erestor.

"Terms. I go into the crowd, and you try to follow me. You do not attempt to make contact. No asking anyone else, that's cheating. After fifteen minutes, if you haven't found me, head back here," I instructed clearly. "Got it?" He nodded. I smirked.

"Then, catch me if you can," I challenged before stepping out into the crowd, immediately slouching the slightest bit. I changed from my usual confident stride to a less remarkable shuffle, being careful not to overdo it and trudge. I spotted the place where the sunlight was most bright: a travelling merchant selling mirrors and looking-glasses was shouting and brandishing his wares, completely oblivious to their blinding effects. I shuffled along past the vendor, taking care to make the most of the dazzling effects.

_Do not hurry. Move normally, live the cover. Use both the sunlight and the shadows as appropriate. Blend._ I repeated the instructions I had hammered into my subordinates's heads. I began circling back behind another merchant's stall and observed Erestor from the shadowy alley. He had yet to begin moving. His eyes came to the mirror merchant's stall and he averted his eyes with a jerk. I remembered how Fiyero had dealt with a similar circumstance in Oz. He had narrowed his eyes, as I recalled. Then again, Fiyero had been a Prince of the Vinkus. He'd been far more used to the kind of light effects and hazes that were native to his wild scrublands.

_So that means more exposure and coping techniques to light dazzles,_ I noted. He began to move past the Dazzle Spot as I had just dubbed it, and I prowled out of the alley. I pictured him from the back: the slim but densely muscled shoulders, the long black hair that glinted blue in the sunlight, and I began to scan the crowd.

_Gotcha!_ I locked onto him, a few metres ahead. The avenue was busy, but not so crowded that I could not trail him.I kept to my unassuming profile, advancing until I was just three paces behind him and a tad to the right, where I could easily step over to a shaded gap between the stalls if he looked behind him. I spent the rest of the fifteen minutes trailing Erestor, internally cackling with glee every time I heard him mutter things like, "Damn that sunlight! Where in Morgoth's six hells has she gone?"

After he reached the rendezvous point, I decided to try one more thing. I stooped and stiffly approached Erestor, tapping him on the elbow.

"Good Master Elf," I quavered, my voice croaking, my features hidden by the hood. "May I prevail upon you to call a physician? I fear I..." here I drew in a few shuddering breaths. Erestor bent and held me up by the arms to prevent a fall.

"My lady?" he asked, his voice uncertain. "My lady? My lady?" the last query was full of alarm and shock as I heaved a gasp and sagged into his hold. Uncertainly, his fingers began moving to my sleeves. I tried not to, but as his fingers gently skimmed that area, I let out a snort of laughter.

"What the–" Erestor shouted, leaping backwards and dropping me. I rolled over and threw back my hood, laughing madly. Erestor stood where he was, and his expression only made me laugh harder. Fading alarm and pure befuddlement were combined.

"I'm sorry, Erestor," I chortled. "But I just couldn't resist!"

Erestor's expression changed from the above combination to frank admiration and astonishment. "_You_ tracked _me!"_ he realised. I nodded, still hooting insanely. "You are a bad elleth!" he scolded. I nodded, slowly beginning to regain my self-control.

"Uh-huh," I responded noncommittally.

"You are a bad, _bad_ elleth!" he chuckled, sitting down beside me.

"Well, when you're the leader of an anarchist cell, you tend to be at the very least construed as bad," I replied. "So," I became more businesslike. "Same deal as with the Sindarin/Quenya/Qu'aati deal," I began, referring to a bargain we had made earlier; Erestor had agreed to teach me Sindarin and Quenya, as well as the cultures, but only if I taught him Qu'aati and various cultures of Oz.

"Go on," Erestor rumbled, looking very interested.

"Very simple. You teach me how to fight, I teach you how to disappear in a crowded place."

"Done!" he replied without hesitation. I smirked.

"The next level of training begins tomorrow."

_-E-_

A few weeks later, I groaned as I flopped into a comfortable chair. Elrond had invited Erestor, Glorfindel and I to share a drink and a chat around the fire.

"What's up?" Glorfindel asked.

"Nothing much. Chief Councillor Erestor Erendurion the Ruthless decided to deal out more than the usual amount of welts, bruises and scrapes, that's all," I replied.

Glorfindel placed a hand on my shoulder. "Commiserations, Elphaba. Erestor is a hard taskmaster."

"Elphaba can't talk," Erestor answered, absently settling back into his chair. "Did you have to drill at _noon?_"

"What's all this?" Elrond enquired.

"I'm trying to teach Erestor how to disappear in a crowded place, in return for him trouncing me every day on the training fields."

Glorfindel sat up a little straighter. "That is an interesting ability. Any others you've squirrelled away?"

I shrugged. "One or two."

"Being?" Glorfindel prodded.

"A cipher. Code encryptions."

"Cipher?" Erestor echoed, leaning forward.

"Yes, for encoding messages. I called it Fox and Crow. It was somewhat complex, but highly specific. One word could translate to an entire sentence, but it could only translate to that sentence. Two words meant that literary translation might be necessary before juggling the syntax. But usually, one work of Fox and Crow would equal a full sentence of normal speech," I explained. "Also, in the cell, I created code names. Often, they'd have some obscure connotation that alluded to the person's status in the cell hierarchy."

"So, your code name, Fae," Elrond began. "Its connotation is, what, exactly?"

"It has many. The one I chose it for was that of a powerful spirit, a guardian-like spirit. And as you know, the guard with the most responsibility in any organisation is the leader. Thus, the connotation for Fae was the guardian of the cell."

"Hence your taking on the assassination of Madam Horrible," Elrond realised. I nodded.

"What does taking on the attempted assassination of Madam Deplorable have to do with guarding the cell?" Glorfindel questioned.

"Sometimes, if a leader cannot find anyone competent enough in their organisation, or if they simply cannot bear to order a subordinate to do such a distasteful task, they will simply carry it out themselves."

"Why did I not make the connection?" he asked contemplatively.

"You think as a general and tactician, friend, instead of tactician and ultimate leader," I explained. Then I hastily added, "No offence intended, but I suspect Lord Elrond knows what I mean."

"No offence taken, Elphaba. I have never been an ultimate leader. That task has always fallen to others." He took another long pull of his wine.

"Anyway, that pretty much sums up my talents: encryption training, evasion, the Grimmerie, small amount of reality-warping and the ability to fly a broom." I snorted.

"A cipher..." Erestor mused. "That would be an exceedingly useful tool."

"Erestor, on what occasion would we use a cipher?" Elrond snorted.

"Communications between the Dúnedain and Imladris," Erestor responded promptly.

Elrond looked at his Chief Councillor.

"You _really_ like this idea, don't you?" He nodded energetically.

"Plus, it'll give me a challenge. Help prevent boredom."

Elrond shuddered at the prospect of a bored Erestor. "So ordered. Cheers."

* * *

Hiya! Whoo-hoo! I'm back! Sorry for the lack of length when compared to previous chapters.

Leave a comment!


	17. Epilogue

Epilogue!

And so, Lady Elphaba's soul not only healed the wounds it had received in Oz, but began to thrive in the environment of Imladris. Certain parties have expressed astonishment, for at the beginning of this chronicle, it would be fair to describe the Lady Elphaba as cynical and worldly. Yet, as the chronicle progresses, she undergoes a dramatic change in attitude and personality. However, this chronicler believes that it is due to the people who immediately accepted her for whom she was, appearance notwithstanding.

Lady Elphaba and Lord Erestor were joint chiefs of the Imladhren Intelligence Service, which was composed two branches. The Lady Elphaba was Chief of the Murder of Crows, while Lord Erestor was Chief of the Wile of Foxes, the agencies being named after the cipher. Thus, Lord Erestor may have been addressed as Erestor, Lord Erestor, Chief Councillor, Chief, or a muddled combination of the above. Lady Elphaba's titles included Elphaba, Lady Elphaba, Deputy Chief Councillor, Chief or a befuddling combination of the above.

Her affair with Chief Councillor Erestor Erendurion was conducted with the greatest discretion. They were secretly married a few years after what Lady Elphaba dubbed, 'The Confession Incident'. Their marriage was not known by any other than themselves until after the War of the Ring, when their first child was born. The child was an healthy girl, save for one oddity: she was albino. Upon seeing this, her parents were reported to laugh and remark about family eccentricity.

Lady Elphaba and Lord Erestor were told to quarrel often over trivialities, but were reported to smile and even laugh as they argued. This leads this chronicler to suspect that for the most part, they argued for the sheer joy of cohesive argument; as for the smaller part, it is assumed that diplomacy prevailed.

And this chronicler is quite able to assure you that, for the most part, they lived quite happily ever after.

Your faithful servant,

Lady Glirwing Colbrithiel,

House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin

* * *

Well, that's it, folks! But don't worry. I've got plenty of vignettes planned. And maybe something more too.

It's been fun. God bless you all. ;D

Sincerely,  
Wing Commander Arnica Vinyaya


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